Send the Lamb to Slaughter (Springtrap x OC)
by savedby8
Summary: It wasn't a matter of IF. It was a matter of WHEN. He was hunting me, and I was at the "mercy" of a machine with a mind of it's own. I suppose there wasn't a better way to die than at the hands of a lover. Warning: Dark story.
1. Chapter 1 - Upgrade

Hi guys! This is my first fnaf story, so please let me know what you think! I will update this if I think people like it. This isn't the typical sweet Springtrap people usually write about. ;)  
Springtrap is a robot through out, no human. Enjoy! 3

~  
Springtrap P.O.V.

I felt different, I felt... _hollow?_ I kept my eyes closed and let myself rumble to an idle humming. All my gears and motors hummed to life with reluctant effort. I wonder how many years would have to pass before they gave out completely. I cringed mentally at the thought of complete helplessness, a true shell.  
I finally opened my eyes and looked around the gritty, wet room. The room had a forest green glow to it, with a single light hanging from the ceiling, it's light stretching and flexing to try to illuminate everything it could. But the bulb was weak, and the light was low.  
I twitched my ear anxiously as I tried to stand up. I don't remember the last time I was awake, and I knew something about me was different. I felt lighter, cleaner. I drew my hands back to the wall I was leaning against, brought my knees to my chest and began to rise, albeit uneasily.  
There was a tall, dusty mirror in the corner of the supply closet. I walked up to it with curiosity, and analyze my appearance. I didn't like to look at myself directly for any reason, but I know the humans did _something_ to me, and I hoped it was some much need repairs if they wanted me to continue functioning.  
I noticed… nothing immediately. I twitched my ear again in anxiety and disappointment. I stepped closer, scanning the mirror one more time. My fur was still tore in my places, but I noticed some patchwork was attempted. My left ear was still broken in half, though, and my perma-grin was still present. I brought a hand up, and touched my face. At least they fixed my fingers, noticing the none of the digits were missing.  
Still, a sigh escaped me. Nothing really changed.  
 _I was still me._  
As if to punish myself for expecting any type of mercy from this Hell, I brought both hands to my head, to show myself who I REALLY was. A corpse, a ghost, a prisoner.  
I pushed at my face mask, to pull it up and away, and it wouldn't budge. Frustrated, I pushed harder, but nothing happened. It was fastened down, irremovable. I stared at myself, squinted at the tears in the fur.  
All I saw was machinery. Wait…  
What?  
Ear twitching, I stood up straight in the mirror, and stared into my own eyes. _Don't get hope just yet._  
I opened my mouth, expecting the usual slight opening of my jaw. Instead my lower jaw dropped to a few inches above my chest and I had complete control my jaw joint. And best of all,  
 _I was just me. I wasn't a cage, I wasn't a tomb anymore._  
The body that had plagued me for 30 years was finally gone. The humans must have removed him from my body before restarting me. I couldn't feel his spirit housed within my body anymore, but I know I would never be truly free. After being stuck with someone for 30 years, their thoughts soon merge with your own. I know he conditioned me to enjoy to the hunt, I know he showed me the bliss that came with dominance, the comfort that came with playing god, if only a god for one human for 6 hours.  
I knew I wasn't devoid of sin, even if I was no longer the embodiment. I just had the ability to pick and choose who were my pets and who were spared.  
 _I was finally me, even if a different me. I was finally Springtrap, nothing more and certainly nothing less._  
My ear twitched subconsciously again, but not with anxiety or dread, but with new found excitement. My kingdom was finally mine.  
Long live the king.

Peyton's P.O.V.  
I was called in on short notice. I was supposed to start on Monday, but the guard who was originally scheduled called off. I gladly came in, desperate for the money.  
"Sure thing, Dylan, on my way." I reassured gently before hanging up with my phone, and throwing on some jeans and a hoodie. I stepped outside, and instantly wheeled back around. It was November and I knew the winter chill was present, but I wasn't excepting it to drop to the teens. I looked at my phone and saw that it was 15 degrees out. I came inside, layered up, made a cup of hot chocolate and braved the cold once more.  
Snow began to fall, as my car's engine roared to life, and I made my way to work.  
After the short 15 minute drive, I was parked outside of Fazbear's Fright. I rolled my eyes at the notion of a year-long horror attraction being open, but I was a huge baby when it came to being scared so I tried not to jinx my luck. I knocked on the back door, and shivered as I heard fumbling on the other side. Dylan greeted me with a half smile, and held the door open for me. I stomped my boots on the ground to rid them of the snow and took in my surroundings. It was a run down building, I don't know whether for atmosphere or just because that's how it really was. Lighting was poor and the air was stiff and hard to breathe. Dylan motioned for me to step into what I'm assuming was my office and I took my coat off and set it on the back of the chair behind the desk.  
"Again, thank you so much Peyton, for coming in. This definitely lets us know you're reliable. Anyways, your job will be to keep watch around here. Make sure no one breaks in, and no guests are hurt. Once we begin to see a steady supply of customers, your job from that point on will be to look scared, as silly as it sounds."  
"No, I get it. It's part of the experience." I smiled at Dylan.  
He smiled back, mumbled a "I suppose so," and asked me if I wanted a tour, which I agreed to. He led me down dark hallways, illuminated by old animatronic heads with lights inside. A very faint music box could be heard on the sound system, upping the creepy factor by about a million. I shivered.  
There was child like drawings on the walls, along with posters of the previous pizza places. There was beat up arcade games with static screens from the old establishments, and pizza boxes laying around. I thought I could hear a faint _clank_ -ing in the background, but I wasn't sure so I ignored it.  
Dylan spoke up, "A lot of this, as you can tell is for atmosphere. When we open in a week, we'll hire actors to scare people. So as of right now, we only have 2 actors." Dylan said that last part rushed and I raised my eyebrow. Clank-ing was louder now, definitely there.  
"They let managers work as actors here?" I questioned, growing uncomfortable.  
"Heh.. Well no. I'm not the other actor." He mumbled nervously.  
"Well then, who is?" Louder now. Closer now. My heart began to pump hard and loud. Why was Dylan 'ignoring' the coming sound as much as I was?  
"Well… _He_ is." Dylan side-stepped, as if he could possibly block out the huge figure behind him.  
My throat seized a scream from erupting from my lips, and I just stood there slack jawed.  
The creature that joined us, stepped more into the hallway light and I was able to truly see his might.  
The robot was at least 6' 7'', and with his ears, a good 8'. He was in the form of a dull yellow bunny, but everything about him was uninviting and unsettling. He had a Joker-like grin plastered on his face, with a round face and _very_ expressive eyes. They had silver irises and seemed to be able to drill a hole through you. He was bulky and solid, even if his fur was torn and ripped. A gentle hum was emitted from him, and he.. just stared at me.  
He head tilted to the side, and he blinked once, before speaking (speaking?!).  
" **I-I am Sspppring-g-gtrap. Hello."**  
The voice was deep and commanding of attention, human like in it's tone, but metallic and clearly from a machine. That only heightened my fear.  
"H-hi, Springtrap. I'm Peyton." I managed to give a small wave, but the bunny continued to stare.  
Dylan cleared his throat. "Yes.. Well. This is Springtrap. He is an animatronic that was recovered. Don't worry he was inspected and is fully functional." Springtrap hummed at this, and I couldn't tell if it was amusement or irritation.  
 _Wait, how could it be either? He's a robot, Peyton. Pull it together. Just a very scary robot._  
"Springtrap, despite his appearance," another hum from the robot, "is probably one of the most advanced robot you'll encounter in an establishment like this."  
I looked over at Dylan for the first time, since Springtrap appeared.  
"What do you mean?"

"Well, his AI is very beyond a normal sing-and-dance animatronic. He was built to be independent and self-sufficient. He is capable of making decisions, evaluating situations, and communication. He thinks like you and I think."  
Something about that horrified me. Robots already gave me the whoolies, but a human like one? Nothing good ever came from that.  
I finally found my voice, "Is he self aware? Does he have emotions?" The last question sounded silly, but it just came out.  
Dylan was silent for a moment, then replied. "Well, I think he is self aware, personally. It could be up for debate. And as far as emotions? I don't think so. I think he just has _preferences."_  
After a few more moments, Dylan looked to Springtrap, and asked if he could give us some privacy. Springtrap responded with a low moaning noise, before twitched and slowly returning to the darkness he came from.  
Dylan and I turned back and headed to the office, where we had some small talk. You know, 'where are you from?, 'How do you like the weather?' type of talk. After about 15 minutes, Dylan and I walked back out to the hallway in front of the office. He walked towards the door, waving over his head and slipping outside. As he left,  
I said,  
"Bye Dylan."  
" **Bye Dylan."**  
My skin went pale. My heart froze. I almost passed out right there from the sheer weight of the fear that was webbing in my veins.  
Slowly, carefully, and in disbelief, I turned around.  
There I saw, Springtrap with that horrible grin, waving his arm goodbye at the closed door, now staring down at me.


	2. Chapter 2 - Rebirth

A.N. – A second chapter to give you insight on whether or not I should continue this little tale. I suppose I should warn you now,  
 ** _This story will be DARK. If you are easily offended, leave._**

 ** _Song that inspired this story: watch?feature=player_embedded &v=93ByMEx50Zc_**  
Enjoy. 3

Peyton's P.O.V.  
Dylan and I turned back and headed to the office, where we had some small talk. You know, 'where are you from?, 'How do you like the weather?' type of talk. After about 15 minutes, Dylan and I walked back out to the hallway in front of the office. He walked towards the door, waving over his head and slipping outside. As he left,  
I said,  
"Bye Dylan."  
" **Bye Dylan."**  
My skin went pale. My heart froze. I almost passed out right there from the sheer weight of the fear that was webbing in my veins.  
Slowly, carefully, and in disbelief, I turned around.  
There I saw, Springtrap with that horrible grin, waving his arm goodbye at the closed door, now staring down at me.  
I inched back, my legs screaming with the urge to run out the door. Springtrap clicked his jaw, slightly opening and closing his mouth quickly. He slowly returned his arm to his side, and eyed me up and down.  
Seconds passed. He was waiting for me to respond, like a cat waiting for the mouse to start the chase.  
"H-Hi Springtrap," I whispered, trying to swallow this fear.  
Springtrap hummed in response, closing his eyes. It almost looked like he rolled them, like he was smelling something irresistible.  
 **"** **H-hellooo, dove. Come iiinnnnside, l-l-let's become acquainted, yes?"** He turned from me and walked into the office, his weight apparent in every step.  
 _Okay, Peyton. You have two options. You can 1) leave. You could walk out the door right now, not get paid plus be fired. You could not pay rent, and have a reputation as a walk out and spend months getting another job. Or 2) you could talk to an unsettling, horrifying animatronic rabbit for 6 hours._  
My legs decided for me, and I shakily made my way to the office. Springtrap stood near the door frame as I entered, and motioned for me to sit in the office chair. I sat down and avoid all eye contact, toying with the loose strings in my jean's fabric. I could feel Springtrap's eyes burning into me, his impatience growing.  
 **"** **L-look at me."** He almost growled. I sheepishly meet his immense gaze, cringing under his authority.  
He was silent for a fleeting moment, before speaking again. **"** **Why do you fear me?"**  
His voice wasn't glitchy nor scratched, it was smooth and powerful. It took me back, and I was searching my brain frantically for a response. I didn't like this. No, I HATED this. What was he? How could this hole in the wall cheap attraction afford to keep a bot like this functioning? His AI seemed too human, and certainly not something the public should be exposed to.  
"B-because you don't seem like a robot. Because you're so old and beat up looking, and haven't said more than 10 sentences to me, and they're all too deep, too human for a machine… Too advanced to be a modified party prop for children."  
I stared back at him, feeling confident that I made him aware of his offenses, but it almost seemed like his permanent grin widened. He chuckled.  
"Wh… What?! Why did you ask me that?!" I yelled, frustrated at his coy response.  
Springtrap looked at me now, but soon fell deathly silent. His eyes locked with me for what felt like an eternity. We were in a battle. I would not let this robot walk all over me. I would not submit. I will not submit to you.  
Then, softly, he twitched his ear.  
I shifted in my chair as a response.  
My heart was galloping, but my confidence was rising. But I couldn't blink. I needed to, but if I did, I lost.  
Hold out. Hold out. Hold out. Hold out. Hold out. For fuck's sake Springtrap, look away! Hold out, hold out, hold out!  
But I couldn't and I finally had to blink. Big fucking mistake.  
As my eyelids closed for that brief moment, I heard Springtrap pounce. He was across the room and on top of me in a flash. He roughly snatched my arm and threw me out the chair and against the wall.  
I yelped from the surprise and sudden pain, and heard him growl, **"** **Don't whimper now, little dove. You have yet to experience true pain."**  
After my brain stop wheeling, I realized what was going on. I opened my eyes, and they struggled to decode all the green light in the room and bring Springtrap into focus. He had my hands pinned together above my head and the other one against my mouth. His rotted fur smelled horrible, like tainted meat and rust. His metal body was unforgiving against mine, and hurt to be so roughly pressed against. His hands gripped me too tightly and I felt my wrist and jaw screaming for release. I tried to scream, but knew it would only bring him satisfaction, and we both knew no one was coming to help me.  
My only option was to look at him. Steely irises met me, and I saw only depth to them, only calculated and cold malice.  
~SPRINGTRAP P.O.V.~  
It was hard to control myself. It had been so long since I had engaged prey, and even then, I never did it alone. _He_ was always there.  
My gears and wires burned with the longing to rip into her, to watch her life ebb out of her and the light fade from her eyes. She refrained from struggling and just looked up at me. I searched her eyes for fear, and thinly veiled under her willpower, it was there.  
I suppressed the orgasmic shudder tingling under my skin. It had been so long since I last took life, and it was my first time with just her. We were both virgins to such a sin in a sense, it was my first time gently plucking the vibrating strings of creation from her body, and it would be her first time entering the void.  
But, if she was honoring me with my first kill, shouldn't I reward her? All those that would come after her, I would have laid already with another woman. It would be _me_ guiding them to the River of Styx. But with her? We would find it together.  
And suddenly, I looked down at my prey with new found respect. I would make the hunt a hopeful for her, I would make her feel she did all she could to preserve her life. I will make her feel she could have done no more.  
 **"** **I asked you this question, dove, because I will give you a new reason to fear me. I want you to think back as time goes on, and realize how you silly you were to underestimate me."**  
I gently placed her back on the ground. Blood had drained from her face, and she was clearly fazed. Oh, how easy it would be to simply bash her head against the wall and enjoy her lifeblood! But, I resist and instead, tucked a hair behind her ear and caressed her face. She wasn't stunningly beautiful, or even remarkable, but she was _mine._  
I brushed off her jacket and straightened her dazed body. She flinched at my touch, but continued to stare through me. I turned and left her for the remainder of her shift.  
I had a lot of planning to do.

What did you think? Suggestions? Leave me some feedback! 3  
~Jordan


	3. Chapter 3 - Practice

Peyton's P.O.V.

It was like a dream. I stood in that office, numb to the world, for at least 30 minutes. The bell that announced 6 am had chimed quite a while ago. I slowly walked towards the door and shut it gently behind me. The snow was falling harder now, and the air felt like needles in my lungs.

I had no idea how to respond to the end of my life. That was what faced me; impending doom. This was only the first night of my last five days. There was no way I could see the end of this, I signed a contract. Even though this job seemed like a dead end, I had no money and no one would hire me if I was a quitter. Poverty had bled my life dry of any and all opportunity, if Springtrap didn't kill me within the week, then the lack of income would over time.

My mother died giving birth to me, and my father never recovered. I wasn't enough to bandage the wound, and I wasn't worth keeping. He sent me to live with his mother, who died when I was 15. She left me the house in her will, as an act of love, and it's all of I have. I went from job to job, dropping out of school just to live. I battled a drug addiction formed out of depression, and after being fired so many times… Here I am.

I took in a jagged breath and blinked hard a few times.

No. No. **_NO._**

I will not allow you to snuff out my fire just because you believe you're above man. You were MADE by man, and you will be BEATEN by one. I focused my eyes and unlocked my door. I didn't even register the drive home, yet I was glad to be there. I released a sigh, put down my car keys and rubbed the bridge of my nose.

I needed a shower.

I peeled off my clothes and looked at myself in the mirror. I felt as tired as I looked. I felt old. A lot older than the 20 years that I actually had under my belt.

Stepping into the shower, I moaned at the safe heat warming my blood and giving me security. A juxtaposition from Springtrap's cold metal grip. His large hand gripping my face and that hideous smug grin on his face. Everything about him taunted me.

I shook my head free from the thoughts that were raging like a nest of hornets in my head. I got out of the shower and changed into new clothes and made my way to bed.

Sleep came over me suddenly, not gently like it usually would. My body felt like I had been fighting for my life and reacted accordingly.

 _It was dark. Pitch black and I had no idea where I was. My hands searched needily for sensory input. It was a concrete floor, wet and cold. I stood up and began walking through the damp room, looking for a wall to find my bearings. After a few steps, I finally made contact with one and hugged my body close. I shivered in the cold air of the room, the only sound was my feet slapping against the floor. Where was I?_

 _I eventually ran into a metal shelf. I frantically patted down the shelves, looking for something - ANYTHING. I found something thin and metallic, pulling it closer to me. I felt down its petite body and felt the head of it. The face felt like… glass? On its body, I found a rubber button and pushing it illuminated a column of the room. It was a flashlight._

 _My heart raced at the thought of seeing what was in the dark with me. I spun in a circle, my eyes hungrily taking in everything. I felt something watching me, and anxiety flooded my veins. I searched the room again and again, and I couldn't find anything. The room I was in honestly looked like a hardware store. Metal components were stored in boxes and there were tools laying everywhere. There was an old, dusty mirror in the corner, but I ignored it._

 _Swallowing my fear of something in the room with me, I stepped towards the door. I walked into a narrow hallway, and it looked familiar. I had been here once before. I continued to walk, and that's where I saw Springtrap. Waiting for me._

 _I backed away, the room rapidly losing light. He felt into darkness, and I prayed he didn't see me. I ran back into the closet I came from, and curled into a ball. I turned off the flashlight and tried to control my breathing. I felt blood pouring into my ears, my body desperate to giving my hearing a boost. There was nothing but grave silence._

 _._

 _._

 _._

Clank.

Clank.

.

.

.

.

 _Oh god, no. Please._

Clank.

Clank.

.

.

.

 _Did he see me?! How?!_

.

.

.

Clank.

Clank.

 _Go away. Go away. Springtrap, please…_

 _"_ _ **Please what, little dove?"**_

 _The door opened and there he stood in front of me. I shook my head, trying to hold back a sob, crawling away into the darkness. As I shuffled into the darkness, Springtrap brought his foot down on the back of my ankle, crushing it completely. I screamed into mind numbing agony, my voice hoarse and raw. It was like my nerves had been lit afire and I was consumed by the heat. I had forgotten every sensation I ever had than this pain. Tears streaming, I turned and looked at Springtrap. His head was tilted to the side, but his eyes were closed and it looked like he was inhaling -sniffing. When he opened his eyes, they looked disappointed. He sighed, resting more of his weight on my shattered joint._

 _"_ _ **That was good, little dove, you know I'm proud of you and think you did a great job. But we need more. Do you think you could do that for me? I'm patient, we have all night to get it right, and it's your first time. I know you're nervous."**_

 _Springtrap leaned down and dragged me closer to him by my injured ankle. I heard my bones grind into dust under his iron grip, and a silent scream escaped me. His silver eyes illuminated his face slightly and I saw the outline of his ears and that ghoulish smile._

 _"_ _ **Let's see if bloodshed can help you get this right, love."**_ _His jaw clicked again slightly, and his hand snaked down my side to find my own hand. I panicked and wrestled it from him. He chuckled and allowed me to defend himself._

 _"_ _ **You're so cute~"**_ _he hummed. I let more tears escape me, and used my hands to cover my face. For a couple moments, I felt nothing. He wasn't touching me, just hovering above me. I closed my eyes and continued to protect my face._

 _Then, Springtrap roughly grabbed my hand and growled. I gasped in surprised and began again to try and wrestle it away, only this time Springtrap wasn't toying with me. He took my index finger and bent it backward, hard. I continued to fight, but he was breaking my finger. Soon, the bones in my finger gave away and even more pain flooded me. I screamed once more, my voice echoing off the halls. I looked to him, panicked and yelled, "Okay! ISN'T THAT WHAT YOU WANTED?! I'M IN AGONY, JUST LIKE YOU WANTED! SPRINGTRAP STOP!"_

 _But he didn't, he just stared at me with those merciless eyes as he continued to bend my finger. I cried and thrashed, feeling the muscles in my finger ripping to shreds. I gave one last time attempt break free, but Springtrap grounded me and I had no escape. Eventually, he ripped my finger off roughly, and another blinding wave of pain hit me. Blood poured out like a faucet and I was fading in and out of consciousness. Springtrap hummed and rolled his eyes back again, inhaling once more. He shuddered and looked back at me. He caressed my face gently and nuzzled into me._

 _"_ _ **That was perfect, little dove."**_


	4. Chapter 4 - Choices

**I'm sorry for the delay, guys. I've had a lot going on and I lost the inspiration to continue the story, overwhelmed by the plot I had planned. But here I am, and here you are. Take this long chapter as an apology. 3**

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: I will be changing perspective from 1st person to 3rd. I feel like I could express more of the true feelings of the characters and the environment without the awkward "Peyton's P.O.V." interruption.**

Peyton awoke in a dizzy, sweat beading along her forehead and soaking her bedsheets and clothes. She took in jagged breaths, coiling and flexing her fingers in a needless attempt to convince herself they were still attached, that she still had all of her. Now awake because of her awful dream, she sighed in frustration and rose to her feet. She grabbed her bedding, the sheets pooling in her grasp as she stripped her bed. She clumsily made her way to the washer room and put the sheets through a wash cycle. The soft hum of the washing machine seemed like a loud intrusion in the otherwise deathly silent house.

She settled into the sofa, it's rich brown and worn leather melting around her. She pulled her laptop next to her and logged in. As the computer illuminated to life, Peyton squinted in the bright light. After a moment, she regained herself and opened her Internet browser. She hovered over the Google search bar idly, afraid to proceed. Slowly, carefully, her fingers pushed into the keyboard the demons that had plagued her.

 _Freddy Fazbear's Pizza_

The search brought hundreds of articles on the ill-fated pizzeria. Some listed the tragedies that unfolded in its walls, other's explained the corruption and downhill spiral of a beloved children's hangout. Wading through the results with a critical eye, something stood out to Peyton. She had read of the murders of the children, their small, betrayed bodies stuffed into the mascots. She knew how they were left for some kind of sick secret display, the mascots to be viewed by families daily. She also knew the rampage the animals partook in once the Sun went down. They hunted, they breathed anew predatory life, and they killed without prejudice.

She shivered at the thoughts of the guards, and the aftermath left in the animatronics' wake. Still though, she couldn't find any pictures or articles on Springtrap. He was absent from any documents, a fleeting ghost amongst the rest of them. There had to be SOMETHING, he had to come from somewhere. She just had to dig a little deeper.

3 hours later and 13 Google pages in, and Peyton finally found what she was looking for. She found an article detailing the restaurant where Freddy's gathered a lot of its atmosphere. A humble little spot called Fredbear's Family Diner, a place where children could eat and hang out with their furry friends. Springtrap was known as Bonnie back then, and he appeared much more peaceful and benign. For some undisclosed reason, he and his partner Fredbear were put into storage and the restaurant was closed.

Pulling the monitor down and rubbing her temples, Peyton sighed knowing that was probably as much information as she would get on the devil's origins. If she wanted to know anything else about him, how to stop him, it meant going back there again. Even if only to attempt to save someone else from her fate.

But somewhere, deep down, in the floor of her soul, she knew she _wanted_ to go back. Springtrap was a rush of mortality, like flipping a coin for life or death. Her life was not her own in those halls.

Peyton yawned and stretched, looking out the window and seeing the sunshine slowly creep into the room through the blinds. Her body finally began to slow down and she settled down into the sofa, sleep once again lulling her away. She did not dream again.

.

.

.

The phone buzzed and screamed. Peyton groaned and reached blindly for it, groping the sofa repeatedly in a half-hearted attempt to silence the noise. She managed to find the blaring little box and turned it over to calm it. She noticed the time, and shot up. It was 8:30 pm and she'd only have a few hours to get to work. As if on cue, her stomach growled fiercely, reminding her of the neglect she had cast upon herself. She quickly changed and grabbed her keys and headed to the first diner she found.

As she parked in the lot of the hole-in-the-wall diner, she felt strangely alone. The air was biting with chill and she only had herself to huddle into. She stepped out into the winter night, locking her car and cursing the chilly season. Once inside, the fluorescent lights gave a harsh light compared to the soft glow of the street lamps. Peyton scooted into a booth and a worn down looking waitressed greeted her. They exchanged pleasantries and Peyton ordered breakfast for dinner.

The waitress mumbled something about 'it'll be right out' and shuffled away. Peyton nodded and turned her attention to the window. The stars were twinkling with such a pure innocence, that it felt like they shone just for her. It warmed her blood and she smiled slightly. Was the world always this big? She hadn't known, she felt like her life would never escape her small, rainy (and now snowy) town. She was huddled in the forests of Washington, the other parts of the world didn't exist. Her town wasn't even a blip on the radar, it was hidden under a coat of rain and pine needles. You lived and died here.

Lost in thought, Peyton didn't realize the food in front of her. She shook the wonder out of her head and glanced at the time.

'9:45pm'

She only had a little time left, and she wanted to use it wisely. She was nervous though, her heart felt fluttery and she ate quickly, even though she had to force herself to finish the meal. She threw two twenties down and told her waitress to keep the change. She hurried out the door, now suddenly urgent in her mission, and the cold, crisp air actually felt good in her lungs. She put her key in the ignition and drove to _him._

Once she parked, she took in a breath to steady her nerves. Her hands were shaking but they calmed when she glanced over and saw Dylan's car a few spaces over. She wondered why she even considered coming alone, scolding herself. She walked briskly to the back of door the building, pulling the door open and stepping inside. She glided into the office, where Dylan looked up at her wide eyed, but quickly calmed.

"Hey Peyton, you're early. What's up? You still have… about an hour and a half before your shift starts." He asked.

Peyton open her mouth and it hung for a moment. She hadn't thought about that. _Why was she here?_

"I just came to check out the place again, as a guest, ya know?," she smiled gently. "I thought it would be cool."

Dylan nodded and returned his attention to his paperwork, clearly not buying her poor excuse but not caring enough to pry. Peyton left the hallway and ventured deeper into the halls. An arcade game at the end of the narrow, long hallway served as the main source of light and even then it strobed in and out. Peyton had difficult orientating herself in the darkness, sliding her hand along the wall as a reference to her position. She walked down the long passageway, really looking at all the children's drawings scattered on the wall. A yellow bunny was shown playing and dancing with the children in the pictures, and the image would be heartwarming if it were anywhere else but here.

Eventually she reached the end of the hallway, standing in front of the arcade game, and on either side of her were two doorways, both completely dark. She took the one to her left, and as soon as she made the first step, her heart began galloping. She once again used her hand as a guide till she found the very corner of the room and took a shaky breath. Her blood was on fire and she needed a moment to gather her surroundings, to gather this moment.

Softly, weakly, she breathed into the air,

"Springtrap."

The air seemed to chill at the name, like it shivered at the thought of him. At first there was nothing but the drowning silence. Peyton closed her eyes and balled her hands into fists, waiting. And yet, still there was silence.

Nothing stirred.

After a few minutes, Peyton sighed and began to walk back to the office. Two steps in, and she heard him. The clank of his feet in the room across the hall. Peyton almost screamed in pure anxiety, but tried to contain her body's flight response. She scurried back to her corner and waited, for what she wasn't sure. The clanking was slow but heavy; he was teasing her. Soon his large outline appeared in the doorway, the only light was the fading-in-and-out arcade light and his eyes. She stared at him, breathing heavily, painfully aware of how helpless she was. He just stood… staring. His ear twitched, and the light faded out again. Just before he was swallowed by the darkness again, Peyton saw him move. The lights in his eyes flickered out, and the arcade light stopped strobing. Peyton started panicked, like a caged animal desperate for escape.

 _Where is he?! I just saw him! Where did his eyes go?!_

Suddenly and all at once, Peyton felt her body bump into something roughly and fall back into the corner she was once occupying. Her throat seized, and her eyes frantically strained to see. She knew he was right there, right in front of her. He wasn't talking, he wasn't moving, he was just standing.

Once she realized this, her panic slowly declined enough for her to speak. Her lips and mouth were dry though, and she couldn't find the words to say.

 **"Yes?"**

As he spoke, his silver eyes illuminated once again, two metallic irises staring down at her intensely.

"I-I-I…" Peyton's tongue flapped ungracefully in her mouth as she tried speak, failing and making her feel miniscule and pathetic in front of him.

 **"What is it, dove? Have you come to visit me? Hmmm?"** Springtrap stepped forward slightly, pinning her against the wall even more. Peyton opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. **"Or have you come to let the lion sharpen his teeth on your bones?"** His tone remained even. A large matted paw stroked her face and Peyton cringed.

"Please don't touch me…" she whimpered, shying away.

 **"Why not?"** he mused, **"Did you not come here, come to me, for this? You know that I will be your end, I will make your body an empty shell, your eyes glassy and your skin cold, and yet you stand before me, you seek me out. What could you possibly want besides this?"** Springtrap dropped his hand away, but his tone had an edge.

Peyton found her voice in this dark room, and spoke as calmly as she could manage. "I came here to talk to you, that's all. I wanted to know why you feel this way, why you feel like you can play God. You are a machine; you were made by man. What right do you have to take life? You will rust away and fall apart, and no one will remember you," she saw his ear twitch, "so if you kill me, or anyone else, why would they not destroy you sooner? Are you suicidal?" That last question was supposed to intimidate him, but it came out as genuine curiosity. She _wanted_ to know.

He didn't respond for a long time. The room was so quiet, Peyton could hear his internal mechanics, the turning of gears and cogs. He reminded her of her washing machine, and if she were somewhere else, she would have laughed out loud at that.

 **"That's quite a statement for someone in such a helpless state. I suppose you're right in a way, humans could come, tear me a part and throw me in a junk yard. But little dove, all that mouth,"** he roughly grabbed her jaw in his hand, her lips pursed loosely together from the force and she whimpered in surprise, **"and no brains."** He let her mouth go and roughly flicked her in center of her forehead hard enough to cause her to bang her head against the wall. **"Why would any of the humans think it's me before they thought it was your friend down the hall? Even if they DIDN'T, and they KNEW it was me, in this small town, tourism makes money. I'm the main attraction this shit hole has. I bring money, you cost money. You need a paycheck, I don't. Do you really think this cash starved little community is going to notice YOU missing? And do you really, honestly, believe they don't know anything about me? Did you even read this position qualifications? Probably not. This job is listed as temporary."** Peyton's face conveyed disbelief and shock, recalling what he was saying. The job said it was a temporary job, and those who worked it, 'due to its difficulty, caused too much stressed and were sent to different chains for a more relaxing work environment.' She looked at Springtrap with disgust, wanting nothing more than to burn the whole building down and watch his metal melt. She snarled in fury and pushed him back with all her might. He staggered slightly, but stepped back for her. She stepped forward and looked up at him, glaring with a stare that could rival his own.

"Springtrap, what you don't know about me, is that I will take. You. With. Me. Play this game with me if you want to, but I will win. You are bigger, you're stronger, you're clearly fucking crazy, but you aren't human. You will fail. I will watch them gut you and use you for spare parts. I will burn your skin away from that metal body that you think makes you invincible and I will go on. You will be an afterthought. You could kill me right now if you wanted to, but you won't. You want to be beaten."

She sneered at him, and he shook slightly and a velvetly laugh rumbled from his body.

 **"You think I'm looking for a competition?"** He pushed her back against the wall hard, his hand against her chest and he stepped forward. **"You think you compare to me? I will be your eternal fucking rest, dove. I keep you alive to kill you another day, you yelling and shouting about man's victory over machine, you're fucking stupid. I will gut you and you will be forgotten within a year. You are my toy, and I will break you down. I will love you and protect you, I will hurt and punish you, I will fuck you like an animal, I will consume you because you are MINE. That is the ONLY reason you breathe, it's why your mom pushed out her cunt. You were born and bred to be mine."** He could see the blood draining from her face, but that wasn't enough. He was insulted and irritated at her outburst, annoyed with such awful behavior, but wanted to comfort his special prize, let her know he still loved her.

 **"I'm sorry, dove. You are extraordinary and the object of my romance. We all have roles in life, and we just have to learn to play our parts."** He stroked her face lovingly, and hummed in pleasure. **"What if I gave you a choice? A chance to live your days out?"** She perked up and looked up at him. **"Hm, yes? Does that interest you? All you have to do is choose. Choose someone else. Every night you come back, bring me another person. Someone to take the burden of your pain, someone to take your punishment. I will spare you every night you do; you will go unharmed. Far from danger, I will show you the depth of my love."** He nuzzled her cold, clammy neck and took in another breath, pulling away and once again meeting her gaze, as her phone rang out that it was midnight and her shift began, **"But every night that you don't, starting right now, you will receive your punishment. They will start small and grow as the days go on."**

Peyton's head was swimming. What was she doing here, playing with fire with the devil himself? Lucifer, himself was standing in front of her and she had summoned him. She wanted to vomit, sick that somewhere in her heart, she knew his offer was something she could do. What else could she do? He was going to kill her; he was going to follow her forever. Heavy tears fell down her face, and she mumbled, hoping her humanity would tell her to deny his wicked offer.

"W-… What is the punishment tonight?" She whispered.

He sighed in response, a look of disappointment is his face.

" **Well since you were so ill behaved tonight, I suppose you need to learn the lesson."** Her hand was suddenly encased in a large paw, his cupping hers effortlessly and gently at first, then locking like a vice grip that caused her to cry out in pain. **"I will break your hand."** He said coolly. **"You have two choices, I do it now, or I let you go and I walk down the hall and break Dylan's. Which will it be?"**

He dropped her hand and backed away from her. Peyton fell to the ground crying, the gravity of the situation getting to her. What if she needed both hands for another night with Springtrap? She balled her hands into fists and sobbed harder.

 **"Hurry up. Dylan will be leaving any minute."** Springtrap said coldly.

Peyton croaked at his words, shaking her head.

"Him." Was all she said, low and seemingly inaudible. She stared blankly at the ground, hollow. All she heard was the clanking of feet moving away from her, followed by a short span of silence.

She heard Dylan asked what Springtrap was doing, she heard Dylan call for her, and she heard him scream as his bones were crushed. She curled into a ball quietly, and let silent tears fall down her cheeks. She belonged here, she was just as much a monster as him.

 **What did you think? What would you do if you were Peyton? What do you think Springtrap has planned for her? Let me know your feedback! :)**


	5. Chapter 5 - Confession

Dylan recoiled his hand into his chest, the pain surging through his body. He turned to Springtrap with disgust and rage threatening to boil over. Springtrap's grin seemed just a little wider and he cocked his head to the side, as if he were a puppy.

"What the fuck is your problem?!" Dylan's voice boomed against the small office's wall. He hated Springtrap, how odd and absurd he was and how he acted like staff were play things. Literally.

" **I think I-I might have malfunctionedddd. Could-d-d you have someoneeee service me?** " He sputtered, and Dylan rolled his eyes dubiously. The pain in his hand flared again and Dylan hissed in agony.

"Drop the fucking act. You KNOW you aren't fooling anyone; how long do you think this can go on?" Dylan asked rhetorically. "You act like I wasn't in her shoes," Dylan threw in his head in the direction of where Peyton sat crying down the hall, "at one time. I know what you are, and I know better than anyone what you do."

Springtrap's ear twitched, and he ducked under the doorway and stepped into the office. He closed the distance between himself and Dylan, close enough that Dylan's shoes touched his large metal feet. Dylan instinctively flinched but held his ground.

" **You do not know me. You know** _ **him.**_ **Your mortality mixed with your stupidity is a deadly cocktail."**

Dylan stayed still, afraid to move, but bold enough to speak.

"How long do you think you can go on murdering people before someone catches on?" Dylan scoffed, astounded at this bot's disgusting arrogance.

" **Well, how many did** _ **he**_ **injure or kill? Three, maybe four? This place is almost lawless, almost like it's not sown in with reality. Your company - your bosses - keep writing off deaths as accidental or the safety negligence on the employee's part, and hire more young naïve souls who need a job or starve. You think I'm the monster? I'm the bullet, not the hired gun. They let me play, I bring them money. Everything else and everyone else is collateral, your life can be written off with a check and your family suddenly is hush hush."** Springtrap mockingly brought one finger up to his mouth and looked down at Dylan. Dylan stared back with fire in his eyes, but knew there was nothing he could say.

He knew Fazbear Entertainment was a sickly corrupt company, and unfortunately most people only discovered that after they had been hired. Everyone was so caught up in the deaths at the restaurants themselves and the singing animals, they often forgot the company that owned those restaurants. They looked at it through a narrow peep hole and couldn't see the bigger picture. And in all that fine print upon being hired, they made you sign a liability form. Expect there's was hundreds of pages to discourage to you actually read it, like a Terms of Service on the computer. Click 'yes' and keep it moving, like most people do. But if you actually read it, they black mark you to any future employer if you leave them. Fazbear literally traps you into being their slave, destroying your employment record upon joining them and there's nothing you can do about it because YOU signed that it was okay. You let them destroy your life.

They had already destroyed his, and there was nothing he could do. As some sort of sick joke, they allowed him to move from night guard to 'regional manager' after Springtrap left him broken and bleeding. A building hadn't even been selected for the attraction to open but they found the sadistic animatronic sealed away at one of the older chains. They transported him to a warehouse where Dylan was hired to keep watch over him while the horror attraction was prepared for public display. For the most part it was an easy job, he roamed the halls with idle thoughts and aching for a way to kill the hours till sunrise. Springtrap was deactivated for months while Dylan worked, until for some reason he awoke. The worker's compensation report claimed an 'electric surge' caused him to activate but Dylan knew that was bullshit. Springtrap trudged through the halls, not really searching for anything in particular. But as soon as he locked eyes with Dylan, a feral growl rip through his aged body. Dylan tried to barricade himself in a storage closet but Springtrap ripped the door off effortlessly and advanced on him. Springtrap broke his arm, 3 ribs, punctured a lung and left him with internal bleeding when the assault ended. The work crew found Dylan in the coming hours, with Springtrap returning to the spot he initially activated from.

Fazbear Entertainment covered all of his medical bills and physical therapy. The attraction's opening was delayed, and well dressed, ice cold lawyers from the company descended on Dylan. They sat in his hospital room, with the constant beep of his heartbeat monitor in the background, told him his legal options. He could sue the company in civil court, with a lawyer of his own versus Fazbear's lawyers for all or nothing. Or he could be promoted to a regional manager with minimal contact with the 'actors', as they put it, and highly increased pay. Considering the aforementioned black list on his employment record and no money in the bank to even find the shittiest lawyer, what choice did he have?

So here he stood, in front of a 1,000-pound mechanical demon, in a shitty horror attraction with crumbling walls and stale air, and a snuffed out future with the world outside. Dylan sighed in defeat, pulling his eyes away from the beast and looked at the floor. After a moment, he looked back at Springtrap apathetically.

"I don't care if you kill me." He began for the exit, not caring if the machine snatched his life away as he passed.

Springtrap just clicked his jaw, and replied, **"And that's why I never will."**

Dylan paused at the door, his hand resting on the bar. He debated if he should say something in response, but thought it unnecessary. He continued into the winter air to the hospital, leaving Springtrap behind.

 _ **Hell for some people is walking right here on Earth…**_ Springtrap thought to himself. He thought on Dylan's mortal suffering for a moment longer, but Peyton's soft whimpering kept pecking into his attention. Peyton?

He knew he had to end their time soon, the longer it drew out, the more attached he became and the more likely she was to flee and not return. Springtrap twitched his ear in disappointment at his thought, but he knew the validity of it. It needed to be done.

Peyton finally got the tears to stop. It had been silent for a long time and Springtrap had not bothered her. It sounded like he hadn't even moved from the office. Maybe he would keep his word? She took in a breath and shakily rose to her feet. She wiped her puffy eyes and stumbled towards the hallway.

She felt more confident, after she came through on their wicked deal.

"Springtrap?" She called loudly. She heard that signature clanking of heavy metal. "No, don't come." She called in response. The clanking stopped.

A small smile touched her lips, the fact that the insane lapin had actually listened to her directions.

"Can you turn on some more lights? I'm so sick of it being near total darkness in here." She wanted to test the limits of her privilege, see how far she could go. The clanking picked up again, but away from her. She heard some metal screech and some soft clicks and the lights began humming before the artificial light came on fully. It wasn't super bright but it was decent for the building and a thousand times better than before. Springtrap returned to the end of the hallway, looking at her curiously.

" **Is that better for you?"** he hummed to her from down the hall, careful to approach. She nodded, still internally amused by all of this, as if she had already forgotten his threats in her ear an hour earlier.

"It is, thank you. If I walk past you to get some of my things, are you going to hurt me?" His head shook. "Alright then." She made her way for the door that the blood lustful rabbit stood, and he made room for her to get through. She continued but behind her, he asked, in an _almost_ shy tone, **"May I come with you?"**

"I don't care what you do, Springtrap, as long as those paws are kept to yourself." Peyton called behind her, as if she were talking to an over talkative co-worker. She ventured to the 'break room,' a sad space with an ancient, moldy refrigerator in the corner, a counter with a peeling surface, an off white table with withered chairs and dim lighting. Peyton fished through the fridge, pulling out an apple that seemed fresh enough. She plopped down in the cheap chair and spun the apple around in her hand, examining the dull red skin. Springtrap stood in the doorway once more, awkward when he wasn't advancing in malice. Peyton pulled her eyes to him and sighed, the excitement beginning to die down and boredom creeping in its place.

"So… what are you about?" She asked, breaking the eternity of silence.

" **What?"**

"You know… Why are you like _this?"_ She clarified, annoyed with his coyness.

" **It would take much too long to explain, but I know that I wasn't always. I wasn't anything, I was a machine just like your phone or a computer. Unaware. And there was a time in between** _ **him**_ **and how I am now, where I was truly myself."** Springtrap answered, leaning his large body against the wall and crossing his leg. Peyton noted how human he acted in the candid moment. She drew back and processed what he had told her.

"We have time. And him? Who is this other person?"

She waited for his answer, but he just remained silent and watched her. She shrugged it off and took a wet bite out of her apple. She made a quick glance at him, and felt pure hatred in his stare. In the moment after that, Springtrap was a blur and against her in a second. He had a titan grip around her throat and it was getting tighter. Peyton clawed at his fingers, pieces of his olive fur trapping under her fingernails. Veins bulged in her face and neck, her legs kicked and flailed. Springtrap's face, although froze in expression, his eyes were lit with rage. His body shivered as he strangled her, raising his voice louder than she thought he was capable of, **"ALL HE TALKED ABOUT WAS WHAT IT MEANT TO BE HUMAN. TO BREATHE IN FRESH AIR, TAKE A SHOWER, EAT. HOW BEING A MACHINE, BEING ME, WAS A FATE WORSE THAN DEATH. IS IT? IS IT?! WHY DO YOU GET TO EXPERIENCE LIFE AND I'M LEFT TO ROT?!"** His voice boomed near the end and Peyton was beginning to black out. Her eyes rolled back and tears weakly fell in resignation. Suddenly, she crumpled to the floor, gasping and coughing for air. Her eyes darted around the room and Springtrap was back against the wall, fists clinched and jaw clicking. Peyton brought a hand to her throat, rubbing the sore flesh, not taking her eyes off him. His body stopped quaking and he loosened his fists, never breaking his stare either. He calmed completely and sighed.

" **I'm sorry. I wish I was in control all the time, but I'm not. I guess that segways to who 'he' is perfectly."** Peyton threw the apple out the door way beside him and backed into the corner like a scared animal (that's exactly what she was). Springtrap would have frowned if he could. Still, he continued. **"I'm sorry, Peyton. Really I am. Once I explain, it'll make sense, and hopefully make you feel better."** He slid down the wall slowly preparing to share the extensive story, spreading his legs in a V as he descended, as if he were a child playing with a toy. **"When I was first created, I know that I was not truly aware of the world. Or at the very least, my programming was limited. I lived in a family diner as part of a singing duo, if you can believe that. I was in much better shape, a brilliant yellow and not so desolate looking. I sung with a bear of the same hue, Fredbear, and we performed for children. If nothing else, I remember distinctly that I loved the children. They brought purpose and meaning into my life and I was eternally grateful that they allowed me to entertain them. I was built by a brilliant engineer and often had people from corporations in robotics come to inspect me, for reasons just like this. I could talk, truly interact with humans. Of course much better now with a mind of my own, but I still thought about and carried on conversations. And my second, and probably most important feature. I... am wearble."** He stopped here, expecting (correcting) a response from Peyton. Her mouth opened, then closed once again, dumbfounded. Finally, she mumbled out the question of how. **"My internal frame is designed to be cranked back with a special wrench, allowing a human enough room to climb inside and parade around in me like a mascot. It's shotty and extremely prone to failure but it is possible. Regardless, my bear companion and I both shared this trait. However, a child was murdered in the diner and it was closed. Fredbear and I were shipped to the next restaurant and someone murdered more children there using the Fredbear suit. This occurs one more time at a different location and Fredbear and I are completely decommissioned and store away. However, the man that began the string of murders, the man who hid behind the mask, the man who started all of this? Long story short, he climbed into me, like he had climbed into Fredbear to kill those children, expect with me, it was different. He didn't climb out."** He paused once more, allowing Peyton to process the reality of what he told her. Her eyes grew eyes with horror and she looked at him as if he were a leper.

"W-w… What do you mean?! Where is he?! Are you him?!"

" **Yes and no. My spring locks malfunctioned, and he was killed inside me. His rotting corpse and venomous spirit intertwined with me, and we became one for a long, long time. Two minds sharing the same body. He expanded my knowledge of the world, whispering to me things of lust and envy and love. He told me way lay beyond the walls of a children's pizza joint, how I would never experience those things other than through his memories. I would be given the gift to 'understand humanity' if I allowed him to possess my body. I agreed, although I don't think I had much of a choice looking back. I think he even knew he was torturing me and that was what he was after. He began the onslaught. He killed without prejudice, every night guard I encountered was prey. He convinced me killing them was a mercy from poverty or heartbreak. And over time, I began to think how he did. See the world through his eyes. They only recently removed his corpse from my body, right before you started. His spirit no longer dwells in me, but he's definitely left his mark."**

Peyton had no idea what to say, what sounded true, what sounded like bullshit. It was so much to take in, and even if she DID accept it as the truth blindly, that made him even more dangerous. He AGREED with the mentality of a child killer?! This was too much, this couldn't be real life. Why did she ever feel like it was okay to let her guard down around this monster? He was blocking the door to the breaking room, which meant he was indirectly blocking the door to exit, and blocking her chance at living. The air in room seemed thick and poisonous at this point and Peyton grew panicked. Springtrap noticed her behavior changed silently, ready to snuff out the flame of her life if she bolted. Peyton just looked into his devilish eyes and pleaded softly,

"I just want to live…"

Springtrap hummed, rising to his feet. **"I want you to, too. You just have to behave."** Malice dripped off those words, revealing that he clearly regretting letting his prey know too much, angry with himself for attempting to care for and bond with her.


	6. Chapter 6 - The Hunt Begins

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: The song I referenced isn't mine. :) Enjoy guys, thank you for all the support.**

For some reason, Springtrap's threats began dulling to Peyton. In the moment before, she was terrified but now she was just exhausted from this power struggle. She was tired of this hunt; she didn't want to be prey anymore. Springtrap seemed more like he was an angry child acting out.

"Behave how exactly? What could I possibly do to piss you off more than you do to yourself? I was eating an apple, and because of it you just tried to choke me out. Springtrap, if you're going to do something make up your mind or back off."

Peyton stood with her chin held high, dusted herself off and strode across the room to stand in front of the mechanical beast. Springtrap felt the anger swelling inside of him, self-control waning under the urge to simply snap her fragile neck.

She was stupid, that was obvious. Her stupidity made her comfortable, made her bold. Springtrap had not yet mastered his malice, his wrath. She was afraid because he had hurt her, she was NOT afraid because she felt like her life would end at any second. That was crucial to his whole romance, and it needed to change.

Springtrap backed out of the room and eyed her up and down. She still had not backed down and it filled Springtrap with disgust and competitive anger. She could fight all she wanted, that was the whole point after all. He walked away from her without a word more, mind clearly set on something else.

Peyton took that as a victory and smiled internally. He was not a worthy opponent; he was only a threat to those that had already given up their will to live. She strode away from the scene carefree and confident, looking for any more clues to help her learn about the lapin. All that was in sight, however, were decorations and props. She stopped to examine a child's drawing on the wall when the lights flickered, then went out completely.

Peyton whipped around immediately, expecting Springtrap to be right behind her. Instead, there was a loud screech near the exit followed by dead silence. Peyton backed herself against the wall in the main hall. Nothing could jump out at her, Springtrap had to enter this hallway to get to any other room. In the distance, he called out.

" **Do something? I want you to remember that statement later tonight, that you were stupid enough to say that. I overestimate how much is actually going on in that head of yours, dove. I'm going to make this simple. If I find you, Peyton, I will kill you. I will even give you time to hide, even though you don't really deserve that mercy. To make up for it though, if I find you? I'm not going to choke you out. I'm not going to snap your neck. I'm going to** _ **hurt**_ **you. A lot.**

 **You have 5 minutes."**

The rabbit fell silent, and Peyton felt the fear overwhelming her again. She knew he was serious this time, this wasn't a game anymore, he wasn't sparing her anymore. She had crossed his lines and she was going to pay for it. She pulled out her phone hastily to check the time - 2:47am. Okay, where can she hide? Springtrap knows these halls better than she did, she would have to rely on fitting into spaces he couldn't. Or maybe she should go for the obvious because he would overlook it? How was this going to work for 3 hours, or least till she got to the exit? Peyton felt the adrenaline spiking her blood, and she scrambled behind one of the arcade games.

Crawling on her hands and knees, the stray wires of the decayed games snagged her feet and wrapped around them like snakes. She fumbled to one of the middle ones and felt for the latch door on the back of the game. Nervously aware of her dwindling time, she pulled the door open with barely enough room for herself to fit and push down the arcade's internal wires and crawled inside. The arcade game was cold and extremely cramped, but she fit. She pulled the door back into place and managed to pull out her phone.

2:52 am. He was coming. Peyton tried to control her breathing and ride out this hiding spot as long as she could.

Springtrap had jammed the doors to the point of being unusable from the inside. The only way Peyton was leaving was if someone let her out. He drew in a long breath, the tingling excitement of his first true hunt washing over him. She was vulnerable, helpless and _his._ He could almost feel her heart pound, its little vibrations shaking the air around him. He closed his eyes and sniffed the air. When he picked up her scent, it was like he was almost salivating. Oil pumped through his body, over lubricating the hinge of his jaw and his tongue licked around his mouth like a hungry dog's. He took his first step toward his prey, his legs taunt and ready to sprint. His body so tensed and primed, he could almost run on all fours like a feral animal.

He checked the break room for her, although he already knew she was not there. He gorged himself on the thought of her blood running freely from her body, her once young and strong heart nearly bursting from the fear of her wretched fate. Though he truly did not know where she was, he knew she could hear him. Softly, he sung out,

" _ **What will we do with the drunken whaler?  
What will we do with the drunken whaler?  
What will we do with the drunken whaler?  
Early in the Morning  
Way hey and up she rises  
Way hey and up she rises  
Way hey and up she rises  
Early in the morning"**_

Peyton heard his demonic song and fought the urge to weep into herself. This was hell on Earth, this was torture beyond explanation. What had she done to deserve this? What god had she offended? She had struggled all her life, wasn't she supposed to have some great turn around? Not a violent, merciless death at the hands of a predatory rabbit, where her death would be written off and she would be forgotten, for nothing much than sport.

" _ **Stuff him in a sack and throw him over  
Stuff him in a sack and throw him over  
Stuff him in a sack and throw him over  
Early in the morning"**_

His voice was nauseatingly sing-song and childlike in tone. He was closer now but still in another room. Peyton pulled out her phone and opened the note pad app. Tears streaming down her face, she wrote her goodbyes to the family she barely knew and friends that really didn't care. She told them she loved them and to remember her fondly. She wept harder while writing, ashamed of how formal it sounded because there was no one she could truly think of that would miss her.

" _ **Feed him to the hungry rats for dinner  
Feed him to the hungry rats for dinner  
Feed him to the hungry rats for dinner  
Early in the morning"**_

He was much closer now, in the room right next to her. He was tearing props down and opening doors. Peyton's heart was galloping like a thundering horse. He was going to find her, she knew it. It was inevitable, like the rising and falling of the Sun. The only choice she had was to fight, even if it was for nothing. Slowly, quietly, she crawled out of the game, careful not to make any noise. She curled up with her back against the wall and her feet against the back of the game, and sat quietly, waiting.

" _ **Slice his throat with a rusty cleaver  
Slice his throat with a rusty cleaver  
Slice his throat with a rusty cleaver  
Early in the morning~"**_

His singing let her know he was in front of the arcade games now. There were 4 in total, and he started with the one furthest from Peyton. His fist came down hard on the game, destroying. He banged it a few more times before pushing the console over. He moved to the next one. Peyton was on fire with fear, terrified that he would see her once he destroyed the second game.

 _BANG._

Was this it?

 _BANG._

Please, god, don't see me.

 _BANG._

The second console fell to the ground with a loud crash. Peyton readied herself, determined to fight to the end. As Springtrap brought his fist down on this game, Peyton pushed with all her might. The console came crashing down on top of the robot, trapping him under its weight. Peyton bolted to the exit, flying as fast as her legs would carry her in this dark. She slammed into the door and fell back roughly. She rose and pushed with all of her strength, but the door wouldn't budge. She cried out in despair and heard Springtrap, still trapped.

" _ **I knew you would try to leave me. You're fucked, and I'm coming for you."**_

Peyton ran into the office, but not before she heard Springtrap free himself from the game. Peyton dropped desperately to her knees and felt the walls for the last thing that could save her. The clanking of his feet closed in as Peyton found what she was looking for. She hastily unscrewed the bolts from the wall and moved the vent plate aside to crawl in. Springtrap was rounding the corner into the office when Peyton replaced the vent face and sat as still as stone. Springtrap moved to the middle of the office, stood for a moment and then spoke, in a way that was almost humbled.

" **Thank you for this. Thank you for fighting. Thank you for making this a challenge for me. It makes the reward that much sweeter. I can't wait to reunite with you, dove."**

Peyton covered her mouth to stifle her breathing, unable to crawl further into the vents until he moved away from her. After a few moments, Springtrap retreated back into the attraction and Peyton gently crawled to the center of the vents. The fight for survival weighed heavy on her body, and after 30 minutes of dead silence she began to feel heavy with sleep. Fighting desperately to stay awake, she blinked in and out of consciousness. She was losing the fight quickly, though, and the last thing she saw were two silver eyes a long way down the vent.


	7. Chapter 7 - Understanding

Peyton's brain shook her body awake for one last effort at escape. Springtrap advanced on her wordlessly, a wolf closing in on his doe. She scrambled down the vent shaft, but it was dark and she didn't know the lay out. Springtrap's heavy body banged in the metal casing, but he was sure footed and Peyton knew she couldn't run forever. In her escape, her blood ran cold. The vent shaft she would exit from, needed the face to be unscrewed. She didn't have that time. Peyton silently sobbed and banged her fist on the floor. She turned around in the vent and faced her reaper.

"I can't get out. You already know that you've won." She spoke to him in a somber, apathetic tone. He was close enough now that his eyes illuminated his face. He gave her a slight nod.

" **I know. Come, dove."** His tone was full of respect and admiration, and he gently wrapped his fingers around her ankle and tugged her like she was a sheet of paper. Peyton tried to keep composure, but soon her body was under the rabbit's, his silver eyes burning a hole into her soul. He held himself up on top of her, brushing the hair out of her face. Her face was clammy and cold with sweat and fear, and she was the most beautiful goddess he had ever seen. He could not imagine a more perfect prize.

Peyton tried to hold his gaze but her eyes stung from tears and eventually she broke down completely. She shook her head fiercely, her hands on his tattered chest, grasping it like a child clinging to their mother.

"S-Sp-Springtrap please… Please don't hurt me." She sobbed into his chest, almost hugging him in desperation.

Springtrap wrapped his free under her waist and pulled her into him.

" **Shhh… Shhh. Don't cry, dove. You know that I love you."**

He allowed her to weep into his body while he nuzzled into her neck and cooed to her soft words. After she calmed, he looked at her with smoldering emotion. He rested his smiling mouth on her forehead as if it he was kissing it, and set her back down on the vent floor. He crawled backwards, down her body and once again gently grabbed her ankle. She didn't fight as much after his comforting, but she was still tense.

"Can't I crawl out myself?" She asked with the voice of a mouse.

Springtrap was facing the exit, turned away from her. He didn't speak, but gave her ankle a little squeeze as his response. She gave up and just laid there, accepting her fate. When they exited the vent, Springtrap stood up while Peyton remained on the ground, not wanting to provoke him. He extended his hand and she took it feebly. She looked to him and his eyes still held that emotion in them, enough to make her calm. No one had looked at her with such importance and it made her body confused. He leaned down and picked her up in his strong arms. She shivered, suddenly aware that he cut the power an hour ago and the chill of winter was creeping into the building. He carried her through the halls like she was his new bride, and she enjoyed the warm hum of his chest. He turned into one of the rooms near the back of the attraction and opened a hidden door, one you couldn't see if you weren't looking.

Inside was a small room, with a single light, chair and a workshop table. There were some animatronic parts in boxes but it was mostly neat and in order. Springtrap must retreat here, she thought to herself. The inner wall was covered in tally marks and scratched out notes. He set her down on the chair, reached for a chain before pausing and looking over at her. His ear twitched and he growled,

" **Don't move."**

She nodded, not feeling as a rebellious as she did earlier in the night. He leaned over for the chain and return to kneeling in front of her. She looked at him once more, and spoke into the empty air,

"Do I have to be chained? You've caught me and I'm not going anywhere. It's very cold." She looked at the ground as she spoke, small and feeling outspoken.

Springtrap hummed at this, truly considering her escape and the hassle it would be chase her down. **"You can stay free while I'm here with you, if I leave, you're strapped down."** Peyton once again nodded and stood up to examine the room in freedom. Springtrap rested his weight against the door and watched her silently, allowing her this small mercy without a second thought.

"Springtrap?"

" **Hm?"**

"Why me?"

" **What?"**

"Why did you pick me for this? Isn't that selfish of you? Why don't I have a choice?"

" **What do you mean, why you? Who else was coming through here, dove?"** Peyton tried not to be offended by this, as stupid as that was. **"I suppose you could call it selfish… But who chose for me to live this life? Didn't He who made the lamb,"** he eyed her up and down, **"make me? Walking the fleeting line between alive and inanimate. I will never be able to truly feel anything. I will never feel the breeze, or have a wife or children. I will never eat, or fall asleep in a bed. I can't even feel when something is touching me."**

"What do you mean, you can't feel something touching you? Like at all?" Peyton asked.

" **Not at all."** Springtrap grumbled back.

Peyton walked over to him, intensely curious about his dilemma. She held out her hand, and he put his up to hers. They locked eyes for a moment before she looked back down at their hands.

"Can… Can you feel that?" She asked softly.

" **Mmm... No. Well, yes and no. I know something is there, that my body is touching another object. I can feel how warm you are, but I can't appreciate it how I remember** _ **he**_ **did in his memories. It's not real sensory information, it's just… information. Kind of like touching everything around you, but with gardening gloves on."**

"It sounds like to me, that you want humanity at the end of all of this. Like you crave to be human." Peyton answered, confident on her reading of him.

He scoffed. **"Human? No, not a chance, you're very… breakable."** He drew the last word out like it was a delicacy, clearly it was pleasurable. **"But humanity? I guess certain elements. I want to be loved, I want to love. I want to experience companionship,"** he saw Peyton open her mouth with hope in her eyes, like she would utter everything he needed to hear not to be the big bad wolf anymore. Like she could fix him. **"But I'm selfish, dove. I know what I need, and I know how to get it. Don't worry yourself about things you have no way of fixing."**

"I used to feel the same way, sometimes…" Peyton uttered, causing Springtrap's ears rise to attention. "I used to feel like I was selfish in my love, that my heart was incapable of letting anyone in. That had to be why no one tried to get in, no one seemed to notice me. My mom died giving birth to me, and my father never forgave me for it. He shipped me off to living with my grandmother, who died a few years back. After that, it seemed like I disappeared off my family's radar. It's hard to find a sense of identity when the only person you exist to is yourself."

" **You exist to me… Very much so."** Springtrap answered her.

She smiled in sadness at him, thankful for his response. "What's one thing, you've always wanted to experience about humanity?"

He thought long and hard, unsure what to pick out of the thousands of desires he had acquired over the 3 decades he'd been alone with the mind of that human. After a moment, he finally decided on an answer, completely sure of himself.

" **I've always wanted to watch a movie."** He answered, full of passion.

Peyton tried to stop it before it started, but she couldn't. She threw her head back in laughter, completely taken aback by such an innocent answer by such a menacing creature. Springtrap's ear twitched, and he shifted his weight, feeling something akin to embarrassment.

"I'll tell you what, Springtrap," she replied, smiling at him, "if you let me go tonight, I'll bring you a bunch of movies tomorrow and we can eat popcorn and have a movie night."

Springtrap mulled over the thought. She could be lying. She could be trying to leave and never come back, why would anyone come back after tonight? That would be the smart thing to do. He looked over at her wide smile, it seemed so believable. It was the first time a human had treated him kindly since his days with the children. He was playing a dangerous game allowing himself to associate her with any kind of fondness. But he could allow himself this one indulgence right? He could use her as a way to experience some of the small things he had always wanted to, that was within her means. And once she couldn't deliver, that would be the end of it. Yeah, that made sense.

" **Okay, dove, deal… But you WILL come back, right?"** He asked her with bare emotion and concern. She looked at him for a long time, her smiling fading and somberness replacing it. She was so caught up in having someone care about her, she forgot who she was talking to. The machine that came to spill her blood, to rip her life away. He seemed so much like her in his aloneness though, if she could feel this kind of happiness after one REAL conversation with him, maybe he could feel this same? And if he did decide to end things, who would care more than he did?

With a twisted sense of confidence, she nodded. "I will be here bright and early at midnight, DVD's in hand." Springtrap nodded, both of them highly aware of the weight of this deal, the shift in the relationship of predator and prey.

As the night raced towards 6 am, they talked more of what humanity meant, lost in their conversation till they heard someone fighting to get the exit door open from the outside.


	8. Chapter 8 - Milk and Honey

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm sorry guys. I've been so busy and sick, I neglected this. I'm still pretty under the weather, but here it is.** **I know this is a long chapter, but it's a very important one. This story probably has 1 or 2 more left. The last bit of this chapter is a little rough, so here is your heads up.**

 **~ ! ~**

Who is that? It can't be-"Peyton stopped her sentence short, reminded of how she had betrayed Dylan. Springtrap's ear twitched and he opened the door, giving Peyton a light push out the room.

" **It doesn't matter who it is. It's 6 AM and your shift is over. Please come back to me."** Springtrap instructed her, focusing on the stranger trying to get in. Peyton continued down the hall while Springtrap stayed behind. She glanced back at him and he gave her a little wave goodbye. She turned the corner and the person had already entered the building. Snow was whipping around in the air outside and had collected inside. It was a tall man with sunken eyes and a too think frame. He looked sick. He wore a long trench coat and carried a brief case. He brushed off his shoulders and stepped into the office. Peyton followed.

"Who are you? Can I help you?" She asked.

He took his coat off and rubbed his hands together. He turned to Peyton with a dull look that he tried poorly to hide. "Yes ma'am perhaps you can. As you already know, I'm not your usual supervisor, Dylan, is it? My name is Harold; I work for Fazbear Entertainment. That was an incident earlier?"

Peyton's throat was dry upon hearing this, her guilt evident all over her face. "Y-yes, there was. I wasn't up front to witness it but I heard Dylan leave."

Harold raised an eyebrow at her confession, casting her a suspicious look. "He didn't inform you that he was leaving to seek medical attention? Where were you at the time of the incident?"

"I-I was in the back…"

"In the back?" Harold scoffed, "Doing what exactly? Your station is here in the front of the establishment."

Peyton fumbled over her words, a mouse scurrying for the nearest hole in the wall. He didn't wait for her response, the onslaught of questions continuing.

"Why is the power shut down? Are you aware it's 14 degrees outside? Are you injured? Have you been watching the camera feed at ALL? Where is the animatronic?" His tone was condescending, like he was speaking to a hard headed child. Peyton didn't get the first sentence out before something moved in the corner of her eye. Springtrap was standing outside the office, his head tilted and examining the intruder intensely. Harold's back was turned, still lecturing Peyton, who had grown deathly silent. He turned from his rant to reason why she had not answered and visibly jumped when he saw Springtrap in the window. He quickly calmed his features, eyes flickering from the frail girl and the large, brooding rabbit. Springtrap heard the endless ramble of the man, heard the venom in his words and felt something inside nudging and pressing him to defend his object of affection. He maintained his gaze with the fool, strolling into the office with the absolute dominance of a wolf. He positioned himself between them, Peyton instinctively hiding behind him.

" **H-Hello, sirrrrr, I'm Springtrappp, the main att-t-traction here. How can my friendddd and I be of-f-f-f service to youuu, tonight?"** Springtrap mused, with thinly veiled irritation.

Harold looked to Peyton as if to confirm she was hearing and seeing what he was, in total awe of the machinery in front of him.

He finally found his voice stuck in his throat, able to answer the robot.

"I'm here to investigate the injury report filed." He blurted out.

Springtrap nodded at this, like a person listening out of politeness and not care. **"Rightttt, well sir-r-r-r, allow me to make your searchhhhh brief. I broke Dylan-n-n-n's hand. Ms. Peyton here,"** he threw his head in her direction, **"was in the back-k-k reorganizing props when it occurred. She is NOT an eye witness."**

Harold was still in shock, long after the lapin had finished speaking. Springtrap waited patiently, curious about this strange foolish human. Harold finally snapped free of his trance and pulled out his note pad.

"So can I have your official statement as to why you injured Dylan?" Harold did his best to put a threatening face, and Springtrap would have laughed if he could. What threat could come to him? Stupid humans.

" **Of course… I wanted to. That's why I broke his hand."** Springtrap voiced nonchalantly as if he were talking about the annoyance of the cold weather outside.

Harold brew in an audible breath at his response and scribbled at his pad before speaking again. He looked at Springtrap once more, then Peyton, and warned, "Springtrap, you obviously know bodily injury is not something we can condone. If this continues, action will be taken against you."

" **Talk to your boss. I don't think he fully informed you of your job. Is there anything else, sir?"** Springtrap asked, his voice velvety and sweet. Harold understood his cue, hastily grabbing his things before rushing out of the building into the chilling wind.

He turned his back and Peyton stood there, smirking with amusement.

"My hero~" she teased, pulling her keys out of her pocket.

" **You're so silly, you human females are so fickle. Aren't you the same dove that I had crawling around on your hands and knees, hiding from me?"** he jested, advancing on her.

"Well yeah…" she thought for a minute, before her bright smile returned, "but that was before I knew you were like me."

Springtrap's ears actually did something new, not noting his usual irritation or anticipation. They fell like a dog's, sadness touching his face.

" **I am not you, and you will never be me. We are not alike."**

Peyton's smiled faded at this sentence and she did not speak. She jingled her keys in her hand, sighed and touched the rabbit's arm before turning towards the broken door.

"Please let me out."

Springtrap pushed the door and it gave, despite its protest and screeching.

" **Put your coat on, dove. See you tonight."** Springtrap reminded her, feeling the air chill and seep into his metal frame. He would have shivered if he could. She glided past him, giving him a 'can't wait' as she left. He closed the door and looked around the now empty building.

This was when it was the worse. The period of loneliness he felt with nothing to focus on but himself. Him roaming the halls with trepidation that the _voice_ would come back. He knew that he had made a mistake. He knew this was not going to end well. He felt an angry spark in his mechanical heart. In the beginning, the main goal was the lust of the hunt, the orgasmic conclusion of her meaningless life. Now things were getting painfully sticky, her neglected heart reaching for a love he could not provide. His loneliness craved a companion, but his vices still remain. It was hard to ignore the desire to simply murder her. He loved her in such a particular, deadly way. He was going to fail her, and she was going to die with such regret weighing on her soul for letting her guard down. Could he sentence her soul to an eternity of anger and despair, like the soul that once possessed him had endured? Was he that selfish?

He sighed. He was.

He treaded back to his safe place, ashamed of his sinful heart.

When Peyton got home, she felt like she was dragging cement blocks. She stripped her clothes piece by piece, enjoying the warmth of her home. She started her shower and climbed in, as if on auto pilot. After the shower, she fell into bed with heavy lids and drifting into a dreamless sleep.

~*~ That Night ~*~

Peyton was sitting on her sofa, eating take out Chinese, watching whatever happened to pop up on TV. She glanced at her phone, cursing to herself that it read 10:50 already. She was caught up enjoying the serenity away from Springtrap, despite their progress. She grabbed a duffel bag and gathered her projector, laptop, one bag of popcorn and turned towards her collection of movies. What movies could enlighten the beast of the softer side of things? This was crucial.

She picked The Lion King simply because it was one of her favorites, Forest Gump too, to show it was okay to be different, and a random scary movie to laugh with him about. She grew wildly excited at the responsibility of introducing Springtrap into the ways of true humanity, not through the eyes of a serial killer. She knew he would have fun, and the thought of him happy, brought a smile to her lips.

She jumped in her car and drove to work without looking back. Once she got there, however, anxiety dripped into her veins. She stepped out of her car, her breath visible in the below 20 degrees' air. She looked up at the night sky, the stars dotting the expansive sky, twinkling and shining. She wondered if Springtrap had ever since a night sky like that, or seen anything outside of a building before. After a while the chill was diminishing her endurance for wonder. She gathered her bag and made her way to the entrance. She knocked on the door, remembering that it was broken, and rocked on her heels to distract herself from the cold. After about half a minute, the door creaked and began to open. Springtrap stood at the door, his good ear fully erect as if he were excited.

" **Good evening, dove. You look like a little school child in that big, poofy jacket and bag in hand."** he teased. Peyton gave him a smirk and walked inside the building. She moaned at the heat that had returned in the air, closing her eyes and standing in the office to thaw. She heard Springtrap step in behind her, waiting patiently. Once she felt warm and comfortable, she turned to him.

"Thank you for returning the power," she smiled, "And as promised I kept my part of the deal." She handed the duffle bag to him.

He had trouble unzipping the bag with his large fingers but after a few times he was able to peek inside. He saw the DVDs and looked up at Peyton with a look that could only be described as a smile. A true, heartfelt smile. Without skipping a beat, he strode across the room and took Peyton up in a hug. His body was a little uncomfortable to her but she returned his affection, moved that she could have made him this happy. After a while she peeled herself from the robot and clapped her hands together.

"Okay! Shall we?" She pulled the contents out the bag and set them on the office desk. Her synced her laptop and the projector, then reached for a random movie but stopped herself. Over her shoulder she asked, "Hey, which would you like to watch first?"

Springtrap stared at the DVD covers for a long time. There was a... cat?... he knew it was an animal but he couldn't place what it was exactly. There was a boy sitting on a bench, Forest Gump? And a movie tilted Cujo, and there was a rabid dog on the cover. He didn't know where to begin.

" **Give me a minute…"** He answered, clearly a very important decision. Peyton just shook her head at his seriousness and grabbed the popcorn, off to the break room. After she placed the popcorn in the microwave, she turned and leaned against the counter. She studied the area on the wall Springtrap had pressed her against, where he yelled at her. Her eyes moved to the corner where she collapsed in fear. She sighed, what was she doing? She felt so conflicted, so confused. He had such a way of tapping into her emotions, making her feel such a rollercoaster. What was _this?_ What… What were they? She didn't know.

Popcorn popped, she returned to Springtrap, who had his back to her. He turned to her, a DVD in his large hands.

" **This one. I want to watch this one first."** He picked Forest Gump.

"Okay," Peyton replied, looking at the movie, "that's a pretty good one. Can you turn off the hallway lights outside the office? I'm going to project the movie on the office glass."

Springtrap nodded, off to fulfill her wishes. She got the movie started and after a few moments, the lights flickered out. Her breath picked up subconsciously, and she tensed. Springtrap returned, touching her shoulder. She jumped and whipped around, eyes wide and wild.

" **Calm down, dove. It's just me."**

"Yeah... sorry..." she mumbled. She grabbed the popcorn as a distraction, and something ran across her mind. All of a sudden she threw her head back in laughter, as if she knew a joke that he didn't. His ear twitched at her random jump in emotions.

" **What is it?" he asked.**

"I'm sorry," more laughter, "I'm sorry… I just was going to ask you if you wanted some popcorn. You! Popcorn!" She laughed even harder, clearly very amused by this. Springtrap would have smiled at her silliness, enjoying her so carefree around him.

" **Oh yeah? Well, dove, that's because I DO want some popcorn."** He said, his tone matter-of-factly and playful. He snatched the bag from her, locking eyes with her. Her smile grew wider in their stare, knowing what was about to happen. Then, while still maintaining eye contact, he took a handful of popcorn and threw it in his mouth.

Peyton lost it. She began laughing so hard she was snorting, and her laugh was little a million bells to him. He loved her, he wanted to make her this happy always. In between her laughter she was trying to tell him something. "Ch— ""Che-"she chuckled at him, unable to finish the sentence.

" **Chew it? Yeah I suppose I should finish my food."** He opened and closed his mouth, doing it goofily so that popcorn would fall out of his mouth to make her laugh harder. It worked. She continued and eventually he started laughing too. They both shared that moment together, in real happiness for the first time in a long time. After a while, she calmed down, wiping tears from her eyes.

"Fuck Springtrap, that was hilarious, oh my god." She said, coming over to wipe any excess popcorn from his face.

" **Yeah, I don't think I've experienced that before. I've never found anything funny before."** He admitted, grateful to experience the moment. She smiled softly.

"I guess we better get to that movie then, huh?" She turned at started the movie up. It played on the glass pane, a new world inside theirs. They sat against the wall opposite of the glass in the office, Springtrap sitting down with his legs extended in a V, Peyton in the middle.

Peyton made effort to remain quiet and still during the movie she had seen a million times, not wanting to interrupt Springtrap's wish. Springtrap was entranced by the screen, so many thoughts going through his head. Was that what the world looked like on this outside? Humans could have disabilities? They differed? What was he felt for Peyton what Forest felt for Jenny? He thought so.

 _I should've worshipped her sooner. If the Heavens ever did speak, she would be the last true mouthpiece._

After sitting for a while, Peyton finally got into the movie. She watched Forest hold out his ice cream haphazardly for his injured lieutenant Dan. She felt something moving in her hair, and swatted it away with her hand. It became back again after a short while, annoying and distracting her from the movie. She swatted it away, but felt the matted fur of Springtrap's fingers. She dropped her hand back down, intensely focused on his affection. He took strands of her hair in between his fingers, running his bulky hands through her hair. Eventually his hand snaked down to her back, where is his fingers drew small circles. She looked out the corner of her eye, trying to see his face. He wasn't looking at her though, he was still held captive by the movie. He was just using her like a touchstone, to ensure himself that she was still there.

The film came to its close and Peyton yawned, standing and stretching. Her bones pop and creaked, cause Springtrap's attention to jump to her achy joints.

" **You sound like me."**

"Yeah, except I actually work." She replied, sticking her tongue out at him.

Springtrap rose to his feet, a strange look in his eyes. He advanced on her slowly, backing her against the wall.

" **Mmm,"** he purred," I **still work. I stood up, my legs work."** He pulled her against him roughly, his palm flat against her chest. She gasped in response, taken by surprise. **" My arms work, I was able to push you back…"** He nuzzled into her neck, forcing one knee between her legs. His hands found her waist, his fingers slowly trailing up her side and back down. Once he reached her hip bones, he slipped the tip of his index finger under her shirt, letting the cold metal of his finger trail her bare skin. She gasped loudly and she tried desperately to form words. Her head was spinning. **"My hands must work too, although I think they could do a lot more than this."** He teased, his voice dripping with lust. Peyton finally shook the daze off, and put a hand on Springtrap's chest, trying to push him off. He didn't budge, his fingers pawing at her torso.

"Springtrap, come on, stop." She urged. His hands were going higher.

"Springtrap, stop." Firmer now, this was getting uncomfortable.

His hands stopped moving, but he didn't retreat. **"Don't you want me to play with you, dove? I would love to make you scream my name. What is love without lust?"** Peyton pushed harder, desperate to create space between them.

Springtrap couldn't describe what came over him, why he craved her body so intensely. He loved her, he wanted to make her feel good. He wanted to be the _reason_ she felt good. Her resistance on added fuel to his lust induced frenzy. He was having a hard time deciding what to do next.

Peyton was furiously trying to removing his strong hands, trying to fight the panic that was swelling in her stomach. "Springtrap, stop! I can-I can show you something else! I can take you outside!"

Springtrap instantly stopped, taken aback by her words.

" **Out… outside? Really?"** his voice almost broke, full of emotion.

Peyton, still wheeling from the assault, just shook her head. She fixed her ravaged clothes, pulling her shirt down more than necessary, just to be sure. She looked back at Springtrap, who looked at her pleadingly.

Had they really not taken him outside _ever?_ It made sense since there was no real need for the animatronic to be outside, but still… to live a long life without ever seeing a single star, or feel the sunshine on your skin… it must be maddening. Her heart panged, sympathy washing away her previous fear. She felt trapped by the funneling of her life; he was trapped within walls, forced to live the same day over and over again.

She grabbed her car keys, and gentled grabbed Springtrap by his index finger, her small fingers completely wrapped around it. "Come on, bunny rabbit."

They made their way to the door, and Peyton turned to him, and he bumped into her, not realizing she stopped in his excitement. He mumbled a sorry and steadied her.

"Before we go out here… we have to a lay a few ground rules. #1, if I say come back, hide or anything of the sort, do it. I'm in charge. #2, try to stay close, it's very cold outside and if you can't walk anymore, I can't move you very far. #3 Stay away from roads, I don't want anyone to see us. You're not exactly the friendliest face, despite the smile. #4, please don't kill any animals out there." Springtrap nodded obediently. He brought a hand to her face, and looked at her as if she were a shooting star.

" **Thank you, dove."**

Peyton smiled, bringing her hand to rest on top of his.

"Wait here."

She opened the door, the winter air at first rough and harsh, but calming (seemingly at her presence). She fumbled to get her car key out to unlock the doors, shivering lightly. But alas, she succeeded, and managed to start the car. She turned the heater on max and the seat warmers as well. She smiled internally; she never used the seat warmers for herself, but for a robot with no nerve endings? No expense was spared.

Once the car was warm and inviting, she walked back to the building. She knocked on the door and the robot opened it for her. She held her hand out and he took it instantly, but they did not move. Eventually Peyton let his hand go and took a wide step back, before reaching out again, beckoning him. Springtrap sighed, anxiety overloading his wiring. He looked at her, her small form wrapped in a heavy snow jacket and a long scarf, she looked like she might fall over at any moment. And yet, as long as he could see her, he could keep moving. She was his North Star.

Carefully, and very slowly, he stepped out. The cold air immediately seized him, the frigid air licking and lapping at his aged joints. He felt something akin to pain, making his resolve falter. Peyton lightly touched his arm and he was reminded why he wanted to press on to begin with. She nodded at him in understanding and pointed to the car. He understood, and made the difficult effort to get to the car. They walked together slowly, arm in arm, to the sanctuary of the vehicle. After some minutes, they finished the trek and Peyton opened the back door for him. He climbed in carefully, but much too large for the car. His ear folded back against the roof of the car and it lowered with his immense weight. Peyton climbed in the driver seat, welcoming the heat to warm her frozen blood. She looked at him in the rear view mirror, almost laughing at the reality that she had a 1000-pound robotic rabbit in her car, taking him for a trip. She backed out of the lot and turned down the road.

The town was quiet, illuminated with the soft glow of the street lights. After a couple miles, Peyton turned out the radio, unsure if Springtrap had heard music outside of little pizzeria jingles. She didn't ask, and truthfully didn't want to know, selfishly basking in the thought that he hadn't and she was exposing him to something new. The trees hugged the road line, seeming to close them in, sealing them away from the rest of the world.

Once a few more miles were covered, Peyton pulled off the road to a small clearing in the trees. There was a small, rain faded sign near where she parked that indicated it was a children's park. There was a small playground with a jungle gym, slide and a swing set, accompanied by some picnic tables. The 'park' was almost like a cul de sac, with the parking lot opening into this circular park that was surrounded by trees and forestry. Peyton turned off the car and went around to let Springtrap out. He emerged and was floored by the beauty around him. The trees' branches hung low, dew weighing them down and making them shiny. The grass was soft and gently swaying in the night air. At above him, the stars dotted the sky like paint flicked from a brush. They twinkled and shone, their brilliant display captivating him. They walked into the park, and Peyton took post on one of the swings. Springtrap tried to sit next to her, but the chains snapped instantly under his weight, causing him to fall right on his 'tailbone'. Peyton once laughed like a symphony of bells and Springtrap felt like this could almost be a dream. He rose, leaving his love to her sweet laughter, while he explored as much as he could before the dream ended. He descended into the forest, the massive trees large and demanding of respect. He touched them with admiration, he had not encountered many things bigger than himself. The chorus of frogs and crickets filled his ears, and all around him he could smell the wet, rich earth.

In the distance, the snapping of branches caught his attention. A young doe was some little ways away, staring at him nervously. Almost like a small child, Springtrap hushed himself and tried to seem inviting to the deer. He could truly be himself, and happiness flooded him. And so the lapin played in the woods, as carefree and happy as Peter the Rabbit himself.

Peyton did not feel it necessary to chaperone him, she knew he needed this. And truthfully, she needed some time to think. What did she expect from this? What exactly was she _doing?_ She didn't know; she knew that this made her happy though. Springtrap was manic and ballistic, and yet, at the root of it, she knew he was just desperate for companionship. She also knew she meant something to the rabbit, that's why she continued to breathe. She felt it when he touched her in the little moments, with the upmost respect and care. That was something she wanted to keep hidden from the world, something for just her to enjoy. He was her dirty secret, as just as much as he thought she was _his,_ he was also _hers._ He was the personification of her desire to be loved. Best of all, he wasn't complicated in the sense she feared. He was not going to run off with the next girl, he was not going to stray, all he could see was her, so she was all that mattered to him. It was sickeningly selfish, but weren't they both? Did she consider it real attraction? No, of course not. He wasn't even human. But was it satisfying to the soul and something they both benefitted from? Yes. She supposed that in some sick, twisted way Springtrap was her most sinful lover. He had the power to destroy her and every night she came back for that heart racing excitement and primal satisfaction. They were in this together.

The doe was approaching, after many minutes of Springtrap remaining as still as stone. Once closer and in the light of the moon, Springtrap saw why she was so nervous. Her front left leg was lamed and unusable. She hobbled and limped, her body thin and sickly. She was malnourished and clearly suffering. She sniffed Springtrap before staring into his eyes with such an intense force that it almost made him uncomfortable. She reminded him of Peyton, such a beautiful creature, but afflicted with injury and seeking comfort from those she should stay away from. Suddenly the doe meant so much more to him, and he reached out to caress her neck. The doe flinched, appearing as if she were going to run, but thought better of it. She groaned and laid down next to the rabbit, her head in his lap. He rubbed her for a long, long time after this, staring into the stars. He imagined the doe being born, with a loving and strong herd. She played with the butterflies and squirrels that shared her home. As she grew, she went from a cute fawn to a beautiful and graceful doe. She roamed the forest almost like a ghost, quiet and tentative. Yet, she managed to step in a bear trap, destroying her leg. Now she had to slowly wither away, the butterflies and squirrels had long since forgotten her. She had to live under the shadow of night, restricted and in constant pain.

This saddened Springtrap, who was now staring at her injury with disappointment. He caressed her a few more times before sighing. The deer moaned out in pain, frustrated and dejected.

" **I suppose dove is the wrong name for you, you were a fawn this whole time, huh?"** he whispered to the doe, who now was struggling to get up. Springtrap cooed a 'shhhh' out into the air and pushed the doe back down. She moaned out again, but it was cut off by his hand closing down around her throat. The doe struggled under his grasp, while Springtrap looked out into the stars with apathy. After a few minutes, her struggling subsided and his grip loosening. He returned to petting her for a bit, before getting up and carrying her body to a more secluded area. He closed her eyes and placed a flower on her body.

Springtrap walked out of the forest with solemn understanding, as if he had received divine instruction. When he made it back to the clearing, he was greeted by Peyton's smiling face. He nodded at her, **"Thank you for taking me out here… It means more than you know."** He said.

"No problem, I'm glad I could help!" Peyton replied, happy to help him how she could.

They piled into the car, though the drive back to the building was a quiet one, Springtrap lost in thought about his own doe, her injuries and how they needed to be handled without her suffering.


	9. Chapter 9 - Home

**Author's Note: This chapter is the final one. If you have any questions, comments, anything you want to know about the characters, leave a comment/review and I'll post a question-and-answer chapter after this one.**

The air felt cold to Peyton on the drive back, even with the heater on. She glanced at Springtrap through the rear view mirror; he hadn't spoken a word since they left the park. Peyton wondered if she did more bad than good, exposing him to a world he would never be able to experience without her mercy. The soft _tick-tick-tick_ of his gears and a gentle hum was the only sound in the small car. Peyton fidgeted, anxious. She hated empty silence. She hated quiet. She hated it. She hated it. She hated it. She hat-

"What's wrong?" Peyton finally blurted out. She couldn't handle the dull quiet anymore after such a momentous event. Springtrap rolled his head to look at her in the mirror. His silver eyes burned in the reflection, the simmering of his thoughts threatening to burst the car into flames.

" **Nothing, little fawn. I'm just thinking."** He answered mildly, looking back into the endless forest.

Peyton huffed, clearly disappointed in his response, but didn't press him. They arrived back at the attraction minutes later. Peyton turned off the car and hesitated before exiting. Something in her felt off, something was amiss. She almost felt… dirty?

Springtrap let himself out of the car, his large figure seemed riddled with exhaustion. He sighed, letting his shoulders slouch and braced the cold as he made his way to the door. He pulled the door with a screech and held it open for Peyton. She wandered in, and he followed.

Peyton set her keys and coat on the desk and stretched. Pulling her phone out and checking the time, she saw it was close to 3am. Her stomach growled and since Springtrap wasn't going to talk to her, she made her way to the break room for a snack.

Springtrap grabbed her car keys, examining them for a short while. He held the silver key in between his large index finger and thumb, spinning it slowly in the light. He analyzed its small shine and glimmer, before bending the key in half. He broke the key off from the rest of them and threw it in the trash. He heard Peyton rummaging in the other room and something in his chest pained him. An intense despair washed over him. He clutched at his chest, feeling something seize and writhe inside.

He treaded as carefully as his heavy, bulky body would allow him. He stood in the doorway of the break room, silent watching Peyton made a simple sandwich. She was humming a simple lullaby, her voice raw and off tune, but Springtrap loved it. She was so dainty and fragile, but she was alive with a fire. She was pure and a glow with this raw emotion, she was a glimpse of humanity in his cold and broken domain. She didn't deserve this; she didn't deserve to be burdened with his tired existence. When had the power exchange occurred? When did he become so in love with her ability to make him forget how pathetic he was, that he _allowed_ her to make him weak and pliable? His ear twitched, the sadness still pulsing through his wiring. Quickly, he reached out, his left hand palming the side of her head. He heard her gasp, and faltered ever so slightly, before slamming her head against the wall. She crumbled to the ground, that fire he was admiring just a moment ago, weakened and dulled. He kneeled down and turned her on her back. Blood trickled down her temple, and he wiped it away tenderly. He noticed the red hue staining his olive fur and clicked his jaw. He wasn't sure how to process this void that had recently grown inside him and continued to grow exponentially. What was it that he wanted? He wasn't sure, he felt inadequate. He wanted to be with her, he wanted to love her in the way only he could. He didn't want to be alone.

He gathered her limbs together, once again carrying his bride through their home. He walked down the hall to his safe place, each step heavy and deliberate. He laid her down on the work-table and closed the door, as if he needed privacy. Peyton's breathing was faint and rhythmic. Springtrap glanced around the room, looking for something to restrain her with. The pain plumed as he searched, realizing once she awoke, their love would be tainted, changed and irreparable through any normal means. He thought of the chains from the other night but thought them too harsh and unforgiving for her soft flesh. He rummaged through boxes, before finding a dusty old mascot costume chest. The endoskeleton was long since removed, leaving a barren animal character behind. He dusted the part off and set it on the table next to her. He turned away, searching for some rope to be sure. Once found, he returned to Peyton, gently sitting her limp body up and tied her hands behind her back. Afterward, his hands lingered on hers, grateful for the numbered moments he had left with her. He gently pulled the costume over her head and slipped it over her shoulders. It was a tight fit and she would find it impossible to untie herself. Springtrap stepped back and analyzed his work. He scoffed… his _work?_ His _work_ was his beloved unconscious, helpless and trapped. He shook his head in self-disgust. He needed to prepare. He backed out of the room and into the hall. He walked into the true storage closet and gathered the empty gas cans that were collecting dust there, along with a shitty, old hose.

With his supplies in his arms, he made his way to the door. He pushed the door and it gave heavy resistance. He knew only he was strong enough to open the door, so why was it an issue now? Was he wearing down that quickly? He pushed harder, his mechanical joints groaning in protest. He cursed himself for breaking the door to begin with. Once the door finally gave, he stepped out. The winter continued to bite at him, like a dog barking at a someone passing by, relentless. But he pressed on, giving the frigid air no mind. He walked to Peyton's car and kneeled down in front of the filler neck and snaked the hose into the gas tank, siphoning the fuel into the cans.

. . .

Peyton awoke groggily. Her head felt like she had been kicked by a horse and she tasted copper in her mouth. Her eyes struggled to focus in the soft light. She blinked a few times and tried to make sense of where she was. Though she tried, every attempt was met with a surging pain through her head. She couldn't focus. In the distance she heard a loud screech. She winced, shunning the pain that brought. She tried to get up but found that she couldn't move her arms. Panicked she looked down and saw a large furry body over hers. There were heavy footsteps moving around, coming slower. Eventually, the door opened and Springtrap appeared, ears erect and noticing her awake.

She instantly felt the urge to cry, her memory rushing back to her. Her face scrunched up, tears threatening. She opened her mouth to speak but Springtrap brought one finger to his mouth slowly and shook his head, giving a soft **"shhh…."**

She obeyed but heavy tears began to stream down her face. She fidgeted, and trying to hold back the emotion that was trying to boil over. Springtrap closed the door, setting the thick blanket he found down on the chair, before sitting in it. He sat in the chair with his legs wide apart and leaning over so that his forearms rested on his thighs.

He stared at her hard for a few moments, their eye contact intimate for all the wrong reasons.

" **You cry too much."** He said blankly, causing her to cry harder. He rolled his eyes but softened his gaze. He rose and reached to stroke her face, and she tried to rip away from his touch. He grabbed her jaw roughly and turned her face towards him.

" **Stop. I'm not in the fucking mood, Peyton."** She glared at him, still silent. His grip released. **"How are you feeling?"**

"Does it matter?" she spat back at him, her tone now venomous.

His ear twitched, his patience tried by her resistance. He had so little patience left after he had been left alone with his soul, he didn't want to deal with this. **"No, I suppose it doesn't. None of it will soon enough."**

Peyton ignored his self-pity, focusing on her hands. She couldn't get them free just yet, but if they were just a little wet, she could. She positioned herself so that she was sitting on them, and hoped the sweat would be enough over time. She needed to buy that time though.

"Springtrap, why are you doing this? I thought we were getting along… I thought we were beginning something beautiful." She asked, trying to stall him.

Springtrap looked at her with such an apologetic look, something in her (as sick as it was) wanted to comfort her.

" **Oh little fawn, I wish. But you and I? We're not real, we couldn't be. Our hearts are much too selfish, our desires to strong. I cannot love you how you need to be, only how I want to. My love is a fire, hungry flames that lick and burn till nothing is left."** The truth in his answer hurt him because he truly didn't want to end things with Peyton. She was his light, but he couldn't bear her leaving, if not now, then later. He couldn't bear not seeing her face again, not feeling _this_ again. He had to control his fate. And truthfully, he was tired. His age wore on his mind, how she couldn't maintain him even if she wanted to stay with him. This place would turn into a prison for them both then. So he had to end things in a way that was comfortable for _**him**_ , something _**he**_ wanted. He sighed and made his way to the door.

" **I'll be back, I'm almost done, then we can talk more."** He shot her one last quick glance before leaving them room. As soon as he was gone, Peyton got to work on freeing herself. She rubbed her body on top of her hands, and soon her hands felt slick. She wormed them out of the restraints and pulled the animal costume over her body. She grabbed the rope that Springtrap used to tie her up and gathered it in her hand. She eyed the door and gulped. She knew she needed to do this right, and she only had one chance. She opened the door slowly and poked her head out. With the coast clear, she tipped toed into the hall. She heard Springtrap in the break room. She sucked in a breath of air, calming her nerves. _Okay,_ she thought, _if I can sneak past him, I can make it to the office and grab my keys. If I hear him coming near, I can trip him with this rope…_

She wasn't very sure of her plan but it was the only one she had. She crept towards the office slowly, each step painful and much too long. It seemed like her car was a million miles away. Eventually, she neared the break room. She stopped at the doorway to listen for him. It sounded like he was rummaging through the drawers, but as soon as the noise started, it stopped. He started walking towards the door. Peyton tensed, her fear and anxiety beginning to skyrocket. She lowered herself close to the floor, the rope tense in her hands. Sure enough, Springtrap's feet came into view and he stepped into the hallway, with his back to her. She waited for him to take another step and as soon as he lifted his foot again, she pulled the rope in front of him. He lost his balance and came crashing down. As soon as he hit the ground Peyton bolted towards the door. She round the corner and kept a running speed to the office, hastily grabbing her keys. She ran over to the door, kicking it a few times before it budged and allowed her to open it. She darted out into the winter night, snow beginning to fall as her ran to her car. She scrambled for her car keys, noticing Springtrap in the doorway.

"Oh god, come on come on come on." She muttered, still trying to find the key as he advanced. She checked again, he was just outside the building. Look down, search, look up, he was about half way to her. She whimpered in frustration, not pulling frantically on the door handle. He was about 5 seconds from her now. She pulled the door handle so hard that it came off, sending her on her ass. She scrambled to get up, turning over and crawling to try and create distance. She couldn't look back, but she could hear his metal feet near her. Right behind her.

She heard a snap. She ignored it and continue to try and stand up to run. As she tried to lift herself up, she fell back down almost immediately. Then she felt it. The pain. The overwhelming violent pain. She looked back and saw her right foot was dangling and limp. He crushed her ankle. She finally looked at him and he was looking at her with a bored expression, any hint of humanity or mercy gone from his features. He once again stepped on her ankle and she cried out in agony. He dragged her body closer to him with his foot on her ankle. She clawed at the asphalt, shaking her head and softly pleading for mercy. Springtrap bent down and grabbed her lame ankle, dragging her all the way back to Hell. Once inside, he let her go and looked down at Peyton, who was curled into a ball by the room, crying.

"I—I had..." she sobbed, her speech incoherent.

" **Hmm?"** Springtrap hummed, his tone nonchalant.

"I had a dream… that you hurt me just like that…" she sobbed, her fate clear to her.

Springtrap scoffed. **"Oh sweetheart, I'm nothing like your dreams."** He leaned down and grabbed her ankle once more, her sobs growing louder from pain. He dragged her body down the hall to his room, growling **"I'm much worse."**

When they reached his room, he picked her up by her hair and threw her on the table. Peyton moaned in pain. Springtrap closed the door once again and turned to her. She buried her head between her knees, trying to block out the demon that shared the room with her. Soon enough though he was in front of her, pushing her head up to look at him.

He cupped her face in his large hand, wiping away tears with his thumb. **"Have you ever heard the story of the Velveteen Rabbit, sweetheart?"** She shook her head no, sniffling. He hummed, stepped away, and began pacing the room. **"Well, you see, love, a stuffed rabbit sewn from velveteen was** **given as a Christmas present to a small boy. The boy plays with his other new presents and forgets the velveteen rabbit for a time. These presents are modern and mechanical, and they snub the old-fashioned velveteen rabbit. The wisest and oldest toy in the nursery, the Skin Horse, who was owned by the boy's uncle, tells the rabbit about toys magically becoming Real due to love from children. The rabbit is awed by this idea; however, his chances of achieving this wish are slight.**

 **One night, the boy's Nana gives the rabbit to the boy to sleep with, in place of a lost toy. The rabbit becomes the boy's favorite toy, enjoying picnics with him in the spring; and the boy regards the rabbit as 'REAL'. Time passes, and the rabbit becomes shabbier but happy. He meets some real rabbits in the summer, and they learn that he cannot hop as they do and say that he is not real.**

 **One day, the boy becomes sick with** **scarlet fever** **, and the rabbit sits with him as he recovers. The doctor orders that the boy should be taken to the seaside and that his room should be disinfected—all his books and toys burnt, including the velveteen rabbit. The rabbit is bundled into a sack and left out in the garden overnight, where he sadly reflects on his life with his boy. The toy rabbit cries, a real tear drops onto the ground, and a marvelous flower appears. A fairy steps out of the flower and comforts the velveteen rabbit, introducing herself as the Nursery Magic Fairy. She says that, because he is old and shabby and Real, she will take him away with her and "turn him into Real" - to everyone.**

 **The fairy takes the rabbit to the forest, where she meets the other rabbits and gives the velveteen rabbit a kiss. The velveteen rabbit changes into a real rabbit and joins the other rabbits in the forest. The next spring, the rabbit returns to look at the boy, and the boy sees a resemblance to his old velveteen rabbit."**

He finished his fairytale affectionately and turned towards Peyton. He smiled inside at her beautiful face and stepped back in front of her. He pushed her hair out of her face and tucked her lovingly behind her ear. **"You made me real. All this time I have spent alone, or without real companionship or love. But you picked me even though I was old and shabby, just like the velveteen rabbit. Even in the forest, where the little bunny and I both reflected on our lives with our loved one, we still realized that love in our heart. You have made me feel so much, so much more than I have in 30 years. You have given me peace on a lot of things. I feel like now I'm stuck between the burning light and dusty shade. But I would walk any line, for you. Thank you so much for trying to fix me. Thank you so much for just being you. I was broken for a long time, but it's over now."** His eyes were smoldering, his true affection pouring out of him. Peyton looked into his eyes, desperate for him to see that he didn't have to do this.

"Why are you destroying this then? Why are you giving up? Why are you taking my choice away from me? How can you say you love me if you're doing this?" She had so many questions, so many answers she needed.

" **I'm destroying this because I know if I don't,** _ **you**_ **will. I can't handle that,** _ **I**_ **control what happens, no one else. It's no one's choice but my own. That doesn't mean I don't love you when I so clearly do. And I know you love me too, and I think you'll understand in time. You may be mad at me for a long time, but in the end, you'll understand. There are some wounds that you,"** he caressed her face, **"just can't mend, even if I do pretend. Like I said, I was broken for a long time, but it's over now. It's over."**

His hand slid down to her chest, where he flattened his palm and felt the strong beat of her heart. Peyton knew her time was ending. She couldn't run, she couldn't fight. She didn't even have any more tears to cry.

Apathetically, she asked him, "Well, if this is it for me, can I have a last request?" Springtrap nodded instantly.

" **As long as it's within reason."**

"Can I leave any last words, like leave a note?" She proposed.

Springtrap thought about it for a while, but agreed and went to the Office for a piece of paper and pen. He brought them back and set them down in front of her. He sat down in the chair and slid back, to give her an illusion of privacy.

Peyton looked down at the pen and paper. What were her last words? Did she have any? She thought with something like this, she would be desperate to fill the page with her legacy. But she didn't have a legacy. She had no one to wish well, to assure of her love. Would this count as a will? So much responsibility tied to this. But who put this effort in for her? Who had her in their thoughts other than the beast that was going to kill in her in a few moments time?

Slowly and with pride, Peyton wrote her note, now assured of what to say. It was brief and blunt, but it was perfect. She folded the note in 3, and placed it next to her. Springtrap was already in front of her, gently picking her up in both of his arms. He sat down on the floor, his back against the wall, his love in his arms. He nuzzled into her, and she actually pulled him closer. They held each other for a long while, Peyton enjoying his metallic smell and warm body. Springtrap memorized every feature of her face, her body. She was a goddess to him. After what seemed like an eternal, Springtrap finally mustered the strength. He pulled away from her and looked into her eyes, seemingly through them and into her soul.

" **I love you."** He whispered, his voice soft and velvet and everything she wanted to hear.

She reached out and touched his face, and he leaned into her touch.

"In another life." She replied back softly, a single tear finally from her face. Springtrap brushed the tear away gently and caressed her face. She closed her eyes, basking in his love. He traced her collarbone, and up and down the side of her neck. Eventually, his hand rested on her neck and he began to squeeze. Peyton struggled, her eyes opening and her face flushing red. The pain was apparent on her face, and her primal instincts took over. Her heart galloped in her chest, her fingers claws at his frantically. Her vision began to bleed different colors and the room fell deathly silent. She could hear her laughter as a child, her father yelling at her, Springtrap's voice, herself crying, all echoing in her mind. They bounced gently off the walls of her mind, some rising and lowering in volume. Still, though, her legs kicked, though now they were tiring. Her fingers were now just trying to slip underneath his, and her legs flopped lazily. Her heart was still racing, though, seemingly threatening to burst. The voices were fading to silence now, and her vision cleared. In fact, it was better than any eyesight she had before this moment. She calmed rapidly, enjoying the peacefulness. She looked at Springtrap, who was staring down at her sadly. His big floppy stupid ears, that oversized grin that grew on her, and those piercing silver eyes. She hoped that in their gaze he could see that she loved him too. She really hoped. She could see now, love is sweet, love is dark. It pulls your world apart, so you can grow. Now she saw perfect how it's clear, what she needed the most was him there. She stared at Springtrap as long as she could, but the picture of her vision began to splotch with black. Her heart was slowing now, and she began disconnecting from the world around her. Her vision faded to black and she heard faintly, softly, across the sea of silence "I love you, little dove. I love you so much."

He knew the moment she was gone. It felt like someone ripped the wiring out of his chest. He clutched her body into his, desperately wishing he could weep and release the emotions that overwhelmed him. She was gone; wasn't that the sick and twisted goal all along? Shouldn't he be happy? No. He knew she showed him the other side, that love was possible. But _he_ showed her that no matter the emotions or intentions, some things never change... But thanks to her, he didn't have to live a meaningless existence. She showed him happiness outside of bloodshed, and that within itself is more mercy than he deserved. After a long time, Springtrap stood up, his mate still in his arms. He set her down on the table gently and picked up her note. Respecting her wishes, he braved the cold one last time and placed the note underneath the windshield wiper of her car. He made his way back to the building, not caring to look back at the world around him. He closed the door and trudged towards the supply closet. He picked up the gas cans and began pouring their contents through the building. When all of the cans were empty, he walked into the Office and pulled out a lighter from the drawers in the desk. He stepped back out into the hallway and took a breath.

" **See you soon, dove."** He whispered softly.

He lit the lighter and threw it towards the door. Flames erupted and hungrily began crawling down the gas lines. Springtrap walked back to his room, and once again took Peyton into his arms. He brushed her hair, ignoring the crackling and smoke that inched toward him every second. They remained in their embrace for as long as Springtrap could hold onto her. The flames were now licking at the door frame of his room, itching to come in. He looked at the flames with apathy, before turning back to his love, continuing to groom and love her. As soon as one of the embers jumped from the eager flames onto his arm and lit it on fire, he hummed, closing his eyes, pulling Peyton even closer and whispering,

" **Home."**

. . . . .

Dylan jumped awake. Groaning partly from being woken up so early and the aching pain from his recently broken hand, he turned towards the source that disturbed him. He grabbed his phone, answering it with a groggy "hello."

When he processed what the person on the other side had told him, he was instantly awake. He hurriedly threw on clothes, and ran to his car. He sped through the streets, the Sun now creeping into the sky, turning it pink and peach. The birds were silent this morning, though, and the air was still as cold as it was that night. Dylan pulled into the parking lots, his car skidding. The fire department had been working on containing the fire for some time, but they still had a lot of work to do. A police officer approached him, prepared with a flurry of questions that Dylan didn't hear. He looked over and saw Peyton's car, and ran over to it, hoping she was in there. She wasn't.

On the windshield, there was a note. Dylan hastily opened it, confused.

" _Because I could not stop for Death,_ _  
_

 _He kindly stopped for me;_ _  
_

 _The carriage held but just ourselves_ _  
_

 _And Immortality."_

 **Thank you guys so much for the support. I'm really happy with this story. It turned out to mean a lot to me, and I hope you guys enjoyed it even a fourth as much as I did writing it. I don't know what I'll be writing next, but I'll think of something. Again guys, thank you so much. Let know what you thought, and questions you may still have. :)**


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